tonight. Now."

A little later the Watcher looked down on them, even as it had looked
down on another man and another woman who had preceded them. But the
stars were bigger and brighter, and the white cap of snow that rested
on the Watcher's head like a crown caught the faint gleam of a far-away
light; and after that, slowly and wonderfully, other snow-crested
mountain-tops caught that greeting radiance of the moon. But it was the
Watcher who stood out like a mighty god among them all, and when they
came to the elbow in the plain, Marette drew Kent down beside her on a
great flat rock and laughed softly as she held his hand tightly in her
lap.

"Always, from a little child, I have sat and played on this rock, with
the Watcher looking, like that," she said in a low voice. "I have grown
to love him, Jeems. And I have always believed that he was gazing off
there, night and day, into the east, watching for something that was
coming to me. Now I know. It was you, Jeems. And, Jeems, when I was
away--down there in the big city--"

Her fingers gripped his thumb in their old way, and Kent waited.

"It was the Watcher that made me want to come home most of all," she
went on, a bit of tremble in her voice. "Oh, I grew lonely for him, and
I could see him in my dreams at night, watching, watching, watching,
and sometimes even calling me. Jeems, do you see that hump on his left
shoulder, like a great epaulet?"

"Yes, I see," said Kent.

"Beyond that, on a straight line from here--hundreds of miles away--are
Dawson City, the Yukon, the big gold country, men, women, civilization.
Father Malcolm and father Donald have never found but one trail to this
side of the mountains, and I have been over it three times--to Dawson.
But the Watcher's back is on those things. Sometimes I imagine it was
he who built those great ramparts through which few men come. He wants
this valley alone. And so do I. Alone--with you, and with my people."

Kent drew her close in his arms. "When you are stronger," he whispered,
"we will go over that hidden trail together, past the Watcher, toward
Dawson. For it must be that over there--we will find--a missioner--" He
paused.

"Please go on, Jeems."

"And you will be--my wife."

"Yes, yes, Jeems--forever and ever. But, Jeems"--her arms crept up
about his neck--"very soon it will be the first of August."

"Yes--?"

"And in that month there come through the mountains, each year, a man
and a woman to vi