day, while we continued with the multitudinous duties of camp life.

For three days nothing of moment occurred. Bradley did not
return; nor did we have any word from von Schoenvorts. In the
evening Lys and I went up into one of the bastion towers and
listened to the grim and terrible nightlife of the frightful ages
of the past. Once a saber-tooth screamed almost beneath us, and
the girl shrank close against me. As I felt her body against
mine, all the pent love of these three long months shattered the
bonds of timidity and conviction, and I swept her up into my arms
and covered her face and lips with kisses. She did not struggle
to free herself; but instead her dear arms crept up about my neck
and drew my own face even closer to hers.

"You love me, Lys?" I cried.

I felt her head nod an affirmative against my breast. "Tell me,
Lys," I begged, "tell me in words how much you love me."

Low and sweet and tender came the answer: "I love you beyond
all conception."

My heart filled with rapture then, and it fills now as it has
each of the countless times I have recalled those dear words, as
it shall fill always until death has claimed me. I may never see
her again; she may not know how I love her--she may question, she
may doubt; but always true and steady, and warm with the fires of
love my heart beats for the girl who said that night: "I love you
beyond all conception."