m his.
Why should she? Had he not come to Cloudy Mountain to woo her? Was she
not awaiting his coming? To her it seemed but natural that the
conventions should be as nothing in the face of love. His voice, low and
musical, charged with passion, thrilled through her.

"I love you," said the man, with a note of possession that frightened
her while it filled her with strange, sweet joy. For months she had
dreamed of him and loved him; no wonder that she looked upon him as her
hero and yielded herself entirely to her fate.

She lifted her eyes and he saw the love in them. She freed her hands
from his grasp, and then gave them back to him in a little gesture of
surrender.

"Yes, you're mine, an' I'm yours," she said with trembling lips.

"I have lived but for this from the moment that I first saw you," he
told her, softly.

"Me, too--seein' that I've prayed for it day an' night," she
acknowledged, her eyes seeking his.

"Our destinies have brought us together; whatever happens now I am
content," he said, pressing his lips once more to hers. A little while
later he added: "My darkest hour will be lightened by the memory of you,
to-night."

XII.

The clock, striking the hour of two, filled in a lull that might
otherwise have seemed to require conversation. For some minutes,
Johnson, raised to a higher level of exaltation, even, than was the
Girl, had been secretly rejoicing in the Fate that had brought them
together.

"It's wonderful that I should have found her at last and won her love,"
he soliloquised. "We must be Fortune's children--she and I."

The minutes ticked away and still they were silent. Then, of a sudden,
with infinite tenderness in his voice, Johnson asked:

"What is your name, Girl--your real name?"

"Min--Minnie; my father's name was Smith," she told him, her eyes cast
down under delicately tremulous lids.

"Oh, Minnie Sm--"

"But 'twa'n't his right name," quickly corrected the Girl, and
unconsciously both rose to their feet. "His right name was Falconer."

"Minnie Falconer--well, that is a pretty name," commented Johnson; and
raising her hand to his lips he pressed them against it.

"I ain't sure that's what he said it was--I ain't sure o' anythin' only
jest you," she said coyly, burying her face in his neck.

"You may well be sure of me since I've loved--" Johnson's sentence was
cut short, a wave of remorse sweeping over him. "Turn your head away,
Girl, and don't listen to me,"