The face of the girl was beautiful. A noble peace was upon it, and the
eyes were like lamps of dusky fire, as though they held all the strength
of the nerveless body. The love burning in them was not the love of a
maid for a man, but that which comes after, through pain and trouble and
wisdom. It was the look that lasts after death, the look shot forward
from the Hereafter upon a living face which has looked into the great
mystery, but has not passed behind the curtains.

There was a knock upon the door, and, in response to a summons, Tang-a-
Dahit stepped inside. A beautiful smile settled upon the girl's face,
and her eyes brooded tenderly upon the young hillsman.

"I am here, Mami," said he.

"Friend of my heart," she answered. "It is so long!"

Then he told her how, through Cumner's Son, he had been turned from his
visit two days before, and of the journey down, and of the fighting, and
of all that had chanced.

She smiled, and assented with her eyes--her father had told her. "My
father knows that thou dost come to me, and he is not angry," she said.

Then she asked him what was to be the end of all, and he shook his head.
"The young are not taken into counsel," he answered, "neither I nor
Cumner's Son."

All at once her eyes brightened as though a current of light had been
suddenly sent through them. "Cumner's Son," said she--"Cumner's Son, and
thou--the future of Mandakan is all with ye; neither with Cumner, nor