Black, this ride through the heart of a wilderness in a darkness
which might have been that of midnight by any other measure than
that of the clock, had the effect of a dream in which one is only
sufficiently in touch with past commonplaces to say, "This is a
dream and not reality. I shall soon wake." A night to remember to
the end of one's days; an experience which did not seem real at
the time and was never looked back upon as real--and yet, one with
which neither of them would have been willing to part.

Their guide had prophesied truly. Heralded by that long cry of the
loon, the dawn began to reveal itself in clearness of perspective
and a certain indefinable stir in the still, shrouded spaces of
the woods. Details began to appear where heretofore all had been
mass. Pearl tints proclaimed the east, and presently these were
replaced by a flush of delicate colour deepening into rose, and
the every-day world of the mighty forest was upon them with its
night mystery gone.

But not the romance of their errand, or the anxiety which both
felt as to its ultimate fulfilment. This it had been easier to
face when they themselves as well as all about them, were but
moving shadows in each other's eyes. Full sight brought full
realisation. However they might seek to cloak the fact, they could
no longer disguise from themselves that the object of their
journey might not be acceptable to the man in hiding at Tempest
Lodge. Reuther's faith in him was strong, but even her courage
faltered as she thought of the disgrace awaiting him whatever the
circumstances or however he might look upon his father's
imperative command to return.