It might win him Aurelia. For if in other ways equality could be kept up, why shouldn't he have a fair chance? He was the better looking--if that counted for anything. Then he had another advantage. Though he was long past much of the old man's antiquated Socialism, he was keen on more modern ideas, a Radical of the most forward type politically, whereas Lord Blackborough--what was Lord Blackborough? Well, he was a very good fellow anyhow. Yes, he was a good fellow, though he was right in saying money didn't stick to him. How could it, when he left it, so to speak, lying about. Ted knocked out the ashes of his pipe, and, after a space, another light showed in one of the upper windows. Then it went out, and the window eye was shut. But what of the eyes within. Were they shut or open? Who knows? Were their owners asleep or awake, conscious that they had reached a crossing of the ways--that one path led up to the rugged mountain--tops, the other into the smooth valleys. Who knows? The moon shone softly behind a haze of midnight coolness, rising from the earth to blur the clear circle of her heavenly rim. There was a breathlessness in the very stillness of the night, that was broken only by the distant wailing of the lambs new-separate from their mothers. Hark! What was it they were calling? Faint and far away, what was it? "_Aura! Aura! Aura!_" Up in the corries, setting the tall brackens a-quiver, high on the birch woods hidden in their silver, higher still among the tumbled rocks of the "Eye of the World," what was that passing? Was it, white and dim, a wandering sheep looming large upon the moonlit mountainside as it sought to answer the cry, or, this midsummer night when the spirits wander, was it a restless wraith seeking it knew not what? Or was it Aura herself, free and fearless among the hills? "_Aura! Aura! Aura!_" The faint, far--distant call sounded from the valley, from the corries, from the birch woods, from the rocks. The shadows lay so still, so soft, yet that one surely moved--moved upwards. "_Aura! Aura! Aura!_" Was it Aura, or only the echoing sound of the calling lambs? Still, soft, equable, serene, oh, misty mountain moonlight what didst thou hold? And in the garden across the lawn, where the girl's feet had lain, was that curved shadow, a snake making its way to the black and white shadow of the Druid's yew tree? Oh, misty moonlight of the valley what didst thou hold, as the faint, far--away cry echoed between the hills, and up into high heaven? Did they meet and hold converse face to face upon the mountain-top, those wandering lights and shadows on the mountainsides? or did they wander, searching for something, until dawn, and find nothing? * * * * * Dawn at any rate came soon, as Ned had said it would.