"Mr. Hayne, there is something I must tell you before I go. If no
opportunity occur, I'll write it."

And those were the words that had been haunting him all the evening, for
they were not again alone, and he had no chance to ask a question. What
_could_ she mean? For years he had been living a life of stern
self-denial; but long before his promotion the last penny of the
obligation that, justly or otherwise, had been laid upon his shoulders
was paid with interest. He was a man free and self-respecting, strong,
resolute, and possessed of an independence that never would have been
his had his life run on in the same easy, trusting, happy-go-lucky style
in which he had spent the first two years of his army career. But in his
isolation he had allowed himself no thought of anything that could for a
moment distract him from the stern purpose to which he had devoted every
energy. He would win back, command, _compel_, the respect of his
comrades,--would bring to confusion those who had sought to pull him
down; and until that stood accomplished he would know no other claim. In
the exile of the mountain-station he saw no women but the wives of his
senior officers; and they merely bowed when they happened to meet him:
some did not even do that. Now at last he had met and yielded to the
first of two conquerors before whom even the bravest and the strongest
go down infallibly,--Love and Death. Suddenly, but irresistibly, the
sweet face and thrilling tones of that young girl had seized and filled
his heart, to the utter exclusion of every other passion; and just in
proportion to the emptiness and yearning of his life before their
meeting was the intensity of the love and longing that possessed him
now. It was useless to try and analyze the suddenness and subtilty of
its approach: the power of love had overmastered him. He could only
realize that it was here and he must obey. Late into the morning hours
he lay there, his brain whirling with its varied and bewildering
emotions. Win her he must, or the blackness and desolation of the past
five years would be as nothing compared with the misery of the years to
come. Woo her he would, and not without hope, if ever woman's eyes gave
proof of sympathy and trust. But now at last he realized that the time
had come when for her sake--not for his--he must adopt a new course.
Hitherto he had scorned and repelled all overtures that were not
prefaced by an expression of belief in his utter innoce