le Grace looked on pityingly.

"I was almost afraid to mention it at first," she said. "I--I hoped you
would take it differently."

Then at last I began to understand clearly. I flung back my head as I
answered: "It is not for my own miserable safety that I care one atom.
Neither if we had gone down together in the fall would it have seemed so
hard; but after bringing you in safety so far it is horrible to be held
helpless here while inch by inch the waters rise. Great God! is there
nothing I can do? Grace, if I had ten lives I would gladly give them all
to save you!"

Again the tell-tale color flickered in her face; then it vanished, and her
voice shook a little.

"I believe you," she answered. "Indeed, it seems only too probable that
you gave up one when you leaped the poor horse into the river. It was done
very gallantly, and now you must wait as gallantly for what that great God
sends."

She seemed so young and winsome and beautiful that suddenly in place of
rage a great pity came upon me, and I think my eyes grew dim, for Grace
looked at me very gently as she added: "No; death comes to all of us some
time, and you must not grieve for me."

But because I was young and the full tide of lusty life pulsed within me,
I could not bear to think of what must follow. Again, it seemed beyond
human comprehension that she, the incarnation of all that was fair and
lovable, must perish so miserably, and once more I had to struggle hard to
restrain a fresh outbreak of impotent fury. Presently, however, her great
fortitude infected me, and with the calmness it brought there came a
feeling that I must tell her all now or never. Nevertheless, I felt that
she knew it already, for one glance had made many things manifest when we
first entered the canyon.

"Grace," I said huskily, "I want you to listen while I answer a question
which, without speaking, you asked me--Why should I, a rough railroad
contractor, esteem it an inestimable privilege to freely lay down my life
for you? It is only because I love you, and have done so from the day we
talked together on Starcross Moor--it seems so long ago. Listen yet. I
meant never to have told you until I had won the right to do so, and had
something to offer the heiress of Carrington, and I fought hard for it,
toiling late and early, with a dead weight of adverse fortune against me;
but all that was little when every blow was struck for your sweet sake.
And, if you had chosen another,