he wings of the autumn breeze, she took Andor's
arm, and together they walked slowly back toward home.

The peace which rests over the plain enveloped them both; from the sky
above the last vestige of cloud had been driven away by the breeze, and
far away on that distant horizon where lay the land of the unknown the
sun was slowly sinking to rest.

Like a huge, drooping rose it seemed--its rays like petals falling away
from it one by one. Mute yet quivering was the plain around, pulsating
with life, yet silent in its autumnal agony. From far away came the
sweet sound of the evening Angelus rung from the village
church--distant and soft, like a sound from heaven or like an echo of
some beautiful dream.

And these two were alone with the sunset and with the stubble--alone in
this vastness which is so like the sea--alone--two tiny, moving black
specks with a background of radiance and a golden haze to envelop them.
In this immensity it seemed so much more easy to speak of love--for love
could fill the plain and find room for its own immensity in this
vastness which knows no trammels. To Andor and Elsa it seemed as if at
last the plain had revealed its secret to them, had lifted for them that
veil of mystery which wraps her up all round where earth and sky meet in
the golden distance beyond.

They knew suddenly just what lay behind the veil, they knew if it were
lifted what it was that they would see--the land of gold was the land of
love, where men and women wandered hand in hand, where sorrow was a
dwarf and grief a cripple, since love--the Almighty King of the unknown
land--had wounded them and vanquished them both.

And they, too, now wandered toward that land, even though it still
seemed very far away. To the accompaniment of the Angelus bell they
wandered, with the distant echo of the chanted Litany still ringing in
their ear. The plain encompassed her children with her all-embracing
peace, and she gave them this one supreme moment of happiness to-day,
while the setting sun clothed the horizon with gold.

CHAPTER XXXI

"What about me."

And time slipped by with murmurings of words that have no meaning save
for one pair of ears. Andor talked fondly and foolishly, and Elsa mostly
was silent. She had loved this walk over the stubble, and the plain had
been in perfect peace save for the rumbling of the Maros, insistent and
menacing, which had struck a chill to the girl's heart, like a presage
of evil.