She lifted the damp curls from his forehead with a sad half-
maternal smile, but did not reply.

"And Mag, dear, don't you think YOU were a little--just a little--
hard on HIM? No! Don't look at me that way, for God's sake!
There, I didn't mean anything. Of course you knew best. There,
Maggie dear, look up. Hark there! Listen, Mag, do!"

They lifted their eyes to the dim distance seen through the open
door. Borne on the fading light, and seeming to fall and die with
it over marsh and river, came the last notes of the bugle from the
Fort.

"There! Don't you remember what you used to say, Mag?"

The look that had frightened him had quite left her face now.

"Yes," she smiled, laying her cold cheek beside his softly. "Oh
yes! It was something that came and went, 'Like a song'--'Like a
song.'"



A KNIGHT-ERRANT OF THE FOOTHILLS.


I.


As Father Felipe slowly toiled up the dusty road towards the Rancho