town. I must say good-bye—if you will not come.'
He loosed her two hands and turned from her eyes.
'I do not browse in the valley,' he said, 'I am one of the wild goats of the mountains.'
She looked upon his averted face.
'You are afraid of men?' she said.
'Afraid!' He drew himself to his fine height, then laughed. 'Even a lion will run when the enemy is too numerous.'
She looked at him more closely. She saw his clothes were tossed and stained by earth, torn here and there by thorns, and in his hair a withered leaf stayed, brown as the curls it clung to.
'What have you done?—not murder!'
'Nay, yet had I helped the devil to his own you could hardly have given me blame. I came to this country at the bidding of my uncle, and because I was too poor to ask your love. The brother of my father took me to his side as a son, and enslaved me. He held me a captive because I was young and gentle and friendless. He did not kill me. On the contrary, he made a man of
