"'Oh, tell me,' I cried, with a quiverin' at my heart, 'tell me, is he
livin'?'

"And he replied: 'I left him in the Pipi Valley of the Rocky Mountains a
year ago.'

"'A year ago!' said I, sadly.

"'I'm ashamed that I've been so long in comin' here,' replied he; 'but,
of course, he didn't know that you were alive, and I had been parted from
a lady for years--a lover's quarrel--and I had to choose between courtin'
her again and marryin' her, or comin' to Farcalladen Rise at once. Well,
I went to the altar first.'

"'Oh, sir, you've come with the speed of the wind, for now that I've news
of him, it is only yesterday that he went away, not years agone. But
tell me, does he ever think of me?' I questioned.

"'He thinks of you,' he said, 'as one for whom the masses for the dead
are spoken; but while I knew him, first and last, the memory of you was
with him.'

"With that he got off his horse, and said: 'I'll walk with you to his
father's home.'

"'You'll not do that,' I replied; 'for it's level with the ground. God
punish them that did it! And they're lyin' in the glen by the stream
that he loved and galloped over many a time.'

"'They are dead--they are dead, then,' said he, with his bridle swung