stal, and a twig fell at her feet,
Sunlight starred the misty distance with pearl; shining branches swayed
to meet her as she passed.

Farther in the wood, she turned, unconsciously in pursuit of that
will-o'-the-wisp of sound. Here and there out of the silence, it came
to startle her; to fill her with strange forebodings which were not
wholly of pain.

Some subliminal self guided her, for heart and soul were merged in a
quivering ecstasy of torture which throbbed and thundered and
overflowed. "He saw me! He saw me! He saw me! He knew me! He knew
me! He knew me!" In a triple rhythm the words vibrated back and forth
unceasingly, as though upon a weaver's shuttle.

For nearly an hour she went blindly in search of the music, pausing now
and then to listen intently, at times disheartened enough to turn back.
She had a mad fancy that Death was calling her, from some far height,
because Anthony Dexter had passed her on the road.

Now trumpet-like and commanding, now tender and appealing, the mystic
music danced about her capriciously. Her feet grew weary, but the
blood and the love of life had begun to move in her, too, when her
whole nature was unspeakably stirred. She paused and leaned against a
tree, to listen for the pipes o' Pan. But all was silent; the white
stillness of the enchanted forest was like that of another world. With
a sigh, she turned to the left, reflecting that a long walk straight
through the woods would bring her out on the other road at a point near
her own home.

Exquisitely faint and tender, the call rang out again. It was like
some far flute of April blown in a March dawn. "Oh, pipes o' Pan,"
breathed Evelina, behind her shielding veil; "I pray you find me! I
pray you, give me joy--or death!"

Swiftly the music answered, like a trumpet chanting from a height.
Scarcely knowing what she did, she began to climb the hill. It was a
more difficult way, but a nearer one, for just beyond the hill was her
house.

Half-way up the ascent, the hill sloped back. There was a small level
place where one might rest before going on to the summit. It was not
more than a little nook, surrounded by pines. As she came to it, there
was a frightened chirp, and a flock of birds fluttered up from her
feet, leaving a generous supply of crumbs and grain spread upon the
earth.

Against a great tree leaned a man, so brown and shaggy in his short
coat that he seemed like part of the tree trunk. He w