opeless joy of it; but the
tears came no higher than his throat. Why did they mock him so? At last,
all the figures merged into one, and she had the face--ah, he had seen
it centuries ago!--of Madame Chalice. Strange that she was so young
still, and that was so long past--when he stood on a mountain, and,
clambering a high wall of rock, looked over into a happy No-man's Land.

Why did the face elude him so, flashing in and out of the vapours?
Why was its look sorrowful and distant? And yet there was that perfect
smile, that adorable aspect of the brow, that light in the deep eyes.
He tried to stop the eternal spinning, but it went remorselessly on; and
presently the face was gone; but not till it had given him ease of his
pain.

Then came fighting, fighting, nothing but fighting--endless charges of
cavalry, continuous wheelings and advancings and retreatings, and the
mad din of drums; afterwards, in a swift quiet, the deep, even thud of
the horses' hoofs striking the ground. Flags and banners flaunted gaily
by. How the helmets flashed, and the foam flew from the bits! But those
flocks of blackbirds flying over the heads of the misty horsemen--they
made him shiver. Battle, battle, battle, and death, and being born--he
felt it all.

All at once there came a wide peace and clearing, and the everlasting
jar and movement ceased. Then a great pause, and light streamed round
him, comforting him.

It seemed to him that he was lying helpless and still by falling water
in a valley. The water soothed him, and he fell asleep. After a long
time he waked, and dimly knew that a face, good to look at, was bending
over him. In a vague, far-off way he saw that it was Elise Malboir; but
even as he saw, his eyes closed, the world dropped away, and he sank to
sleep again.

It was no vision or delirium; for Elise had come. She had knelt beside
his bed, and given him drink, and smoothed his pillow; and once, when
no one was in the tent, she stooped and kissed his hot dark lips, and
whispered words that were not for his ears to hear, nor to be heard by
any one of this world. The good Cure found her there. He had not heart
to bid her go home, and he made it clear to the villagers that he
approved of her great kindness. But he bade her mother also come, and
she stayed in a tent near by.

Lagroin and two hundred men held the encampment, and every night the
recruits arrived from the village, drilled as before, and waited for the
fell disea