deas of missionaries from this time forth.

She watched his light, free movements, now sitting back upon his heels
to hold the cup of boiling water over the blaze by a curiously contrived
handle, now rising and going to the saddle pack for some needed article.
There was something graceful as well as powerful about his every motion.
He gave one a sense of strength and almost infinite resource. Then
suddenly her imagination conjured there beside him the man from whom she
had fled, and in the light of this fine face the other face darkened and
weakened and she had a swift revelation of his true character, and
wondered that she had never known before. A shudder passed over her, and
a gray pallor came into her face at the memory. She felt a great
distaste for thinking or the necessity for even living at that moment.

Then at once he was beside her with a tin plate and the cup of steaming
tea, and began to feed her, as if she had been a baby, roast rabbit and
toasted corn bread. She ate unquestioningly, and drank her tea, finding
all delicious after her long fast, and gaining new strength with every
mouthful.

"How did I get here?" she asked suddenly, rising to one elbow and
looking around. "I don't seem to remember a place like this."

"I found you hanging on a bush in the moonlight," he said gravely, "and
brought you here."

Hazel lay back and reflected on this. He had brought her here. Then he
must have carried her! Well, his arms looked strong enough to lift a
heavier person than herself--but he had brought her here!

A faint colour stole into her pale cheeks.

"Thank you," she said at last. "I suppose I wasn't just able to come
myself." There was a droll little pucker at the corner of her mouth.

"Not exactly," he answered as he gathered up the dishes.

"I remember that crazy little steed of mine began to climb straight up
the side of a terrible wall in the dark, and finally decided to wipe me
off with a tree. That is the last I can recall. I felt myself slipping
and couldn't hold on any longer. Then it all got dark and I let go."

"Where were you going?" asked the young man.

"Going? I wasn't going anywhere," said the girl; "the pony was doing
that. He was running away, I suppose. He ran miles and hours with me and
I couldn't stop him. I lost hold on the bridle, you see, and he had
ideas about what he wanted to do. I was almost frightened to death, and
there wasn't a soul in sight all day. I never saw such an