"There is not a moment to lose," Wolf urged. "We are entering on the most wonderful development in the history of the human race. The only thing lacking for its triumphant achievement is faith and leadership. Secure from our young dreamer the title to this island and you will achieve an immortal deed--you will not hesitate or fail?" "No," was the firm answer. "I will not fail. I'm going with him to-day on a mountain climb. Just for fun, if for nothing else, I'll test my power." "You'll report to me the moment you return?" Wolf urged. "Yes," she answered, dreamily. Norman found Barbara in a mood resistlessly charming. She seemed to have utterly forgotten that she was grown up or had ever been the herald of a revolutionary cause. She was a laughing girl of eighteen again, with the joy of youth sparkling in her eyes and laughter ringing in every accent of her voice. Instantly the mood of the man reflected hers. He threw to the winds the cares and worries of the great adventure that had brought them together, and the island of Ventura became the enchanted isle of song and story. "We shall be just two children to-day--shall we not?" she asked. "Yes," he responded gaily, "two children who have run away from school, tired of books, with hearts hungry for the breath of the fields." For half an hour hill and dale rang with laughter as they ascended the path of the brook. They came to a wide expanse of still water. And Norman said with a bantering laugh: "We leave the stream here and climb the hill to the left. I must wade and carry you across this place if you're not afraid?" "Who's afraid?" she asked with scorn. "All right." He removed his shoes, and rolled his trousers high. "Now your arm around my neck, and no jumping or screaming until we're safe on the other shore." She hesitated just an instant, blushed, and slipped her soft round arm about his neck as he lifted her slight figure and began to pick his way across the treacherous surface of the slippery bottom. His foot slipped on a muddy stone. She gave a scream, and both arms gripped his neck in sudden fear. Her burning cheek pressed his forehead. "I beg your pardon," she cried, blushing red. "I didn't mean to smother you." "And I distinctly said no jumping or screaming, didn't I?" "I won't do it again--oh, dear!" Again both arms clasped his neck in a strangling, smothering hug, which he purposely prolonged with an extra slip which might have been avoided. Her face was scarlet now and the blushes refused to go. They lingered in great red bunches after he had carefully placed her on the smooth grass on the opposite bank. "Honestly, I'm afraid I disgraced myself, didn't I?" she asked, timidly. "No. It was all my fault," he replied. "I did it on purpose." "Perhaps I choked you on purpose, too!" she answered, blushing again. Norman looked at her thoughtfully. "You know I never saw you blush before. I like it." "Is it becoming?" she asked, demurely. "Very."