more into a woman's face. I don't want to hurt you, and I'd-- I'd"--
his voice broke a little--"I'd give him back life if I could, just
because I've seen you and know you and-- and love you."

She started and drew a quick, sharp breath that came almost in a low
cry.

"Forgive me, little girl," he went on. "I may be a little mad. I guess
I am. But I'd die for you, and I'm going to see you safely down to
your people-- and-- and-- I wonder-- I wonder-- if you'd kiss me good
night--"

Her eyes never left his face. They were dazzlingly blue in the
firelight. Slowly she drew her hands away from him, still looking
straight into his eyes, and then she placed them against each of his
arms and slowly lifted her face to him. Reverently he bent and kissed
her.

"God bless you!" he whispered.

For hours after that he sat beside the fire. The wind came up stronger
across the Barren; the storm broke fresh from the north, the spruce
and the balsam wailed over his head, and he could hear the moaning
sweep of the blizzard out in the open spaces. But the sounds came to
him now like a new kind of music, and his heart throbbed and his soul
was warm with joy as he looked at the little tent wherein there lay
sleeping the woman whom he loved.

He still felt the warmth of her lips, he saw again and again the blue
softness that had come for an instant into her eyes, and he thanked