"'It's past the Dreamer's Rock for us, my sweet, and out to the open
sea'"




The Place Beyond the Winds




CHAPTER I


Priscilla Glenn stood on the little slope leading down from the farmhouse
to the spring at the bottom of the garden, and lifted her head as a young
deer does when it senses something new or dangerous. Suddenly, and
entirely subconsciously, she felt her kinship with life, her relation to
the lovely May day which was more like June than May--and a rare thing
for Kenmore--whose seasons lapsed into each other as calmly and
sluggishly as did all the other happenings in that spot known to the
Canadian Indians as The Place Beyond the Wind--the In-Place.

Across Priscilla's straight, young shoulders lay a yoke from both ends of
which dangled empty tin pails, destined, sooner or later, to be filled
with that peculiarly fine water of which Nathaniel Glenn was so proud.
Nathaniel Glenn never loved things in a human, tender fashion, but he was
proud of many things--proud that he, and his before him, had braved the
hardships of farming among the red, rocky hills of Kenmore instead of