in the mountains, till she starved. Possibly the day might be
endurable, but another night would drive her crazy. She sat on a
ledge, planning and brooding, till she was startled by a call from
Kells. Then slowly she retraced her steps.

"Don't you want to eat?" he asked.

"I'm not hungry," she replied.

"Well, eat anyhow--if it chokes you," he ordered.

Joan seated herself while he placed food and drink before her. She
did not look at him and did not feel his gaze upon her. Far asunder
as they had been yesterday the distance between them to-day was
incalculably greater. She ate as much as she could swallow and
pushed the rest away. Leaving the camp-fire, she began walking
again, here and there, aimlessly, scarcely seeing what she looked
at. There was a shadow over her, an impending portent of
catastrophe, a moment standing dark and sharp out of the age-long
hour. She leaned against the balsam and then she rested in the stone
seat, and then she had to walk again. It might have been long, that
time; she never knew how long or short. There came a strange
flagging, sinking of her spirit, accompanied by vibrating, restless,
uncontrollable muscular activity. Her nerves were on the verge of
collapse.

It was then that a call from Kells, clear and ringing, thrilled all
the weakness from her in a flash, and left her limp and cold. She
saw him coming. His face looked amiable again, bright against what
seemed a vague and veiled background. Like a mountaineer he strode.