the valley. We had been riding all night
and were drenched with cold dew, hungry
to desperation, and my spirits were of lead.
Suddenly we got out from behind the gran-
ite wall, and there she was, standing, where I
had seen her so often, beside the little water-
fall that she calls the happy one. She was
looking straight up at the billowing mist
that dipped down the mountain, mammoth
saffron rolls of it, plunging so madly from
the impetus of the wind that one marvelled
how it could be noiseless. Ah, you do not
know Judith! That strange, unsophisti-
cated, sometimes awkward woman you saw
bore no more resemblance to my mountain
woman than I to Hercules. How strong and
beautiful she looked standing there wrapped
in an ecstasy! It was my primitive woman
back in her primeval world. How the blood
leaped in me! All my old romance, so dif-
ferent from the common love-histories of
most men, was there again within my reach!
All the mystery, the poignant happiness
were mine again. Do not hold me in con-
tempt because I show you my heart. You
saw my misery. Why should I grudge you
a glimpse of my happiness? She saw me
when I touched her hand, not before, so
wrapped was she. But she did not seem
surprised. Only in her splendid eyes there