"This is Megalon Valley. You and I live alone here."

"Why did you bring me here?"

"I did not bring you, Francis; you wished me to come. One day you said to
me: 'There is a place in Megalon Valley where, long ago, an old man
lived, who had become a stranger among men--a place where the blackbird
stays, and the wolf-dog troops and hides, and the damson grows as thick
as blossoms on the acacia. We will go there.' And I came with you."

"I do not remember. What of the mine? Was I a coward and left the mine?
There was no one understood the ways of the wheel, and rod, and steam,
save me.

"The mine is closed, Francis," she answered gently. "You were no coward,
but--but you had strange fancies.

"When did the mine close?" he said, with a kind of sorrow; "I put hard
work and good years into it." At that moment, when her face drew close to
his, the vision of her as she stood at the anvil came to him with a new
impression, and he said again in a half-frightened way: "When did it
close, Samantha?"

"The mine was closed--twelve years ago, my own dear husband."

He got to his feet and clasped her to his breast. A strength came to him
which had eluded him twelve years, and she, womanlike, delighted in that
strength, and, with a great gladness, changed eyes and hands with him;
keeping her soul still her own, brooding and lofty, as is the soul of
every true woman, though, like this one, she labours at a forge, and in a