by the trail on which we go, and we
will know if they are about before they can possibly get up the
trail. I have seen you brave on the plains, and you will be as
brave on the mountain top. Good-by for a few days.

"Yours to serve you,
"Harry King."

The tears ran fast down her cheeks as she read. "Oh, why did I speak
of it--why? He may be killed. He may die of this attempt." She threw
the torch from her into the fireplace, and clasping her hands began to
pray, first in English her own words, then the prayers for those in
peril which she had learned in the convent. Then, lying on her face,
she prayed frantically in her own tongue for Harry's safety. At last,
comforted a little, she took up the torch and, flushed and tearful,
walked down in the darkness to the cabin and crept into bed.

CHAPTER XX

ALONE ON THE MOUNTAIN

For the first two days of Harry King's absence Madam Manovska relapsed
into a more profound melancholy, and the care of her mother took up
Amalia's time and thoughts so completely as to give her little for
indulging her own anxiety for Harry's safety. Strangely, she felt no
fear for themselves, although they were thus alone on the mountain
top. She had a sense of security there which she had never felt in the
years since she had been taken from the convent to share her parents'
wanderings. She made an earnest effort to divert and arouse her mother
and succeeded until Madam Manovska talked much and volubly in Polish,
and revealed more of the thoughts that possessed her in the long hours
of brooding than she had ever told Amalia before. It seemed that she
confidently expected the return of the men with her husband, and that
the message she had sent by Larry Kildene would surely bring him. The
thought excited her greatly, and Amalia found it necessary to keep
continual watch lest she wander off down the trail in the direction
they had taken, and be lost.

For a time Amalia tried to prevent Madam Manovska from dwelling on the
past, until she became convinced that to do so was not well, since it
only induced the fits of brooding. She then decided to encourage her
mother to speak freely of her memories, rather than to keep them
locked in her own mind. It was in one of these intervals of
talkativeness that Amalia learned the cause of that strange cry that
had so pierced her heart and startled her o