"All right, Joe," replied the Mormon. "An' I take it good of Ruth an'
you to concern yourselves."

A slight tap on the inside of the door sent Shefford's pulses to
throbbing. Joe opened it with a strong and vigorous sweep that meant
more than the mere action.

"Ruth--reckon you didn't stay long," he said, and his voice rang clear.
"Sure you feel sick and weak. Why, seeing her flustered even me!"

A slender, dark-garbed woman wearing a long black hood stepped
uncertainly out. She appeared to be Ruth. Shefford's heart stood still
because she looked so like Ruth. But she did not step steadily, she
seemed dazed, she did not raise the hooded head.

"Go home," said Joe, and his voice rang a little louder. "Take her home,
Shefford. Or, better, walk her round some. She's faintish .... And see
here, Henninger--"

Shefford led the girl away with a hand in apparent carelessness on her
arm. After a few rods she walked with a freer step and then a swifter.
He found it necessary to make that hold on her arm a real one, so as
to keep her from walking too fast. No one, however, appeared to observe
them. When they passed Ruth's house then Shefford began to lose his
fear that this was not Fay Larkin. He was far from being calm or
clear-sighted. He thought he recognized that free step; nevertheless,
he could not make sure. When they passed under the trees, crossed
the brook, and turned down along the west wall, then doubt ceased in
Shefford's mind. He knew this was not Ruth. Still, so strange was his
agitation, so keen his suspense, that he needed confirmation of ear, of
eye. He wanted to hear her voice, to see her face. Yet just as strangely
there was a twist of feeling, a reluctance, a sadness that kept off the
moment.

They reached the low, slow-swelling slant of wall and started to ascend.
How impossible not to recognize Fay Larkin now in that swift grace and
skill on the steep wall! Still, though he knew her, he perversely clung
to the unreality of the moment. But when a long braid of dead-gold hair
tumbled from under the hood, then his heart leaped. That identified
Fay Larkin. He had freed her. He was taking her away. Then a sadness
embittered his joy.

As always before, she distanced him in the ascent to the top. She went
on without looking back. But Shefford had an irresistible desire to took
again and the last time at this valley where he had suffered and loved
so much.

XVI. SURPRISE VALLEY

From the summit o