ouching so closely filled their hearts and eyes, and left them faint.
So they stood for hours or for seconds, they could not tell,
spirit-hushed, ecstatic. The girl realized that they must part.

"You must go," she whispered brokenly, at last. "I do not want you to,
but you must."

She smiled up at him with trembling lips that whispered to her soul
that she must be brave.

"Now go," she nerved herself to say, releasing her hands.

"Tell me," he commanded.

"What?" she asked.

"What I most want to hear."

"I can tell you many things," said she, soberly, "but I do not know
which of them you want to hear. Ah, Ned, I can tell you that you have
come into a girl's life to make her very happy and very much afraid.
And that is a solemn thing; is it not?"

"Yes," said he.

"And I can tell you that this can never be undone. That is a solemn
thing, too, is it not?"

"Yes," said he.

"And that, according as you treat her, this girl will believe or not
believe in the goodness of all men or the badness of all men. Ah, Ned,
a woman's heart is fragile, and mine is in your keeping."

Her face was raised bravely and steadily to his. In the starlight it
shone white and pathetic. And her eyes were two liquid wells of
darkness in the shadow, and her half-parted lips were wistful and
childlike.

The man caught both her hands, again looking down on her. Then he
answered her, solemnly and humbly.

"Virginia," said he, "I am setting out on a perilous journey. As I
deal with you, may God deal with me."

"Ah, that is as I like you," she breathed.

"Good-by," said he.

She raised her lips of her own accord, and he kissed them reverently.

"Good-by," she murmured.

He turned away with an effort and ran down the beach to the canoe.

"Good-by, good-by," she murmured, under her breath. "Ah, good-by! I
love you! Oh, I do love you!"

[Illustration: "GO HOME BEFORE THEY SEARCH THE WOODS." Scene from the
play.]

Then suddenly from the bushes leaped dark figures. The still night was
broken by the sound of a violent scuffle--blows--a fall. She heard Ned
Trent's voice calling to her from the _melee_.

"Go back at once!" he commanded, clearly and steadily. "You can do no
good. I order you to go home before they search the woods."

But she crouched in dazed terror, her pupils wide to the dim light.
She saw them bind him, and stand waiting; she saw a canoe glide out
of the darkness; she saw the occupants of the canoe disembark;