I am too ignorant to
understand . . . the plains have taught me all I know . . . and . . .
and . . . I shall always love you, Andor . . . and not judge what you
have done. . . . God will do that. . . . I can only love you. . . . That
is all!"

Her voice died away in the soughing of the wind. For a moment or two he
stood beside her--not daring to speak--or to move--or to take that cool,
little white hand in his and kiss it--for now she seemed to him more
pure than she had ever been--almost holy--like a saint--hallowed by the
perfect selflessness of her love.

And as he stood beside her--with head bent and throat choked with sobs
of infinite happiness--the darkness of the night fell wholly upon the
plain. Nothing around but just this darkness, filled with all the sounds
of hidden, pulsating life; overhead the clouds chased one another
ceaselessly and restlessly, and from far away the dull murmur of the
water came as a faint and rumbling echo.

Andor could no longer see Elsa now, not even her silhouette; but her
hand was still on his arm, and he felt the nearness of her presence, and
knew that henceforth, throughout the years that were to come, a
happiness such as he had never even dared to dream of would be his and
hers too, until the day when they would leave the beautiful, mysterious
plains for that hidden land beyond the glowing horizon, beyond the rosy
dawn and the crimson sunset.

Andor slowly fell on his knees and pressed his burning lips on the
small, white hand. Just then in the east there was a rent in the clouds,
a lining of silver appeared behind the darkness; the rent became wider
and ever wider; the silver turned to lemon-gold, and slowly,
majestically, the waning moon--honey-coloured and brilliant--emerged
triumphantly, queening it over the plain.

The silvery radiance lit up the vast, silent expanse of nothingness, the
huge dome of the sky, the limitless area of stubble and stumps of hemp
and dead sunflowers, and where the mysteries of the earth merged in
those of the sky--it touched with its subtle radiance that unknown land
on the horizon, far away, which no child of the plain has ever reached
as yet.

And from the distant village came softly sounding the tinkle of the
church bell, tolling for evening prayer.

Hand in hand, Andor and Elsa wandered back to the
village--together--hand in hand with memory--hand in hand in
never-fading love and understanding and simple trust--hand in hand upon
the