offman," and as her voice floated out to him Denver rose
up from his hiding and stepped boldly into the moonlight. He stood there
like a hero in some Wagnerian opera, where men take the part of gods,
and as she gazed the mockery went out of her song and she sang of love
alone. Such a love as women know who love one man forever and hold all
his love in return, yet the words were the same as those of false
Giuletta when she fled with the perfidious Dapertutto.

"Night divine, O night of love,
O smile on our enchantment
Moon and stars keep watch above
This radiant night of love!"

She floated away in the haunting chorus, overcome by the madness of its
spell; and when she awoke the song was ended and love had claimed her
too.

CHAPTER XVI

A FRIEND

A new spirit, a strange gladness, had come over Drusilla and parts which
had been difficult became suddenly easy when she took up her work the
next day; but when she walked out in the cool of the evening the
sombrero and boy's boots were gone. She wore a trailing robe, such as
great ladies wear when they go to keep a tryst with knightly lovers, and
she went up the trail to where Denver was working on the last of her
father's claims. He was up on the high cliff, busily tamping the powder
that was to blast out the side of the hill, and she waited patiently
until he had fired it and come down the slope with his tools.

"That makes four," he said, "and I'm all out of powder." But she only
answered with a smile.

"I'll have to wait, now," he went on bluffly, "until McGraw comes up
again, before I can do any more work."

"Yes," she answered and smiled again; a slow, expectant smile.

"What's the matter?" he demanded and then his face changed and he
fumbled with the strap of his canteen. And when he looked up his eyes
met hers and there was no longer any secret between them.

"You can rest a few days, then," she suggested softly, "I'd like to hear
some of your records."

"Yes--sure, sure," he burst out hastily and they walked down the trail
together. She went on ahead with the quick step of a dancer and Denver
looked up at an eagle in the sky, as if in some way it could understand.
But the eagle soared on, without effort and without ceasing, and Denver
could only be glad. In some way, far beyond him, she had divined his
love; but it was not to be spoken of--now. That would spoil it all, the
days of sweet communion, the pretence tha