"Not in this case, Cora. At least not from this hour. Come, we are on the ledge now!" said Clarence, as he helped his niece, who with one more high step stood on the top of the plateau, her back to one of the most glorious prairie scenes in nature, her face to a rocky, pine-dotted precipice, against which stood a double log cabin, with a door in the middle and a window on each side. "There is the hut! Now, shall I take you there, or shall I wait here and let you go alone?" he inquired, as they stood side by side gazing on the hut. She did not answer. Her eyes were riveted on the door of the cabin, while she leaned heavily on the arm of her uncle. "I see how it is: you are weakening, losing courage. Let me support you to the door," said Clarence, putting his arm around her waist. But she drew herself up suddenly. "Oh, let me go alone, dear Uncle Clarence. My meeting with Rule should be face to face only," she replied, still trembling, but resolute. "Are you sure you can do it?" "Oh, yes, yes! My limbs shall no longer refuse their office!" Clarence threw himself down at the foot of a pine tree to sit and await events. He took out his watch and looked at the time. "It is one o'clock," he said to himself. "At two sharp the trail will move, or ought to do so. Perhaps Neville might give us half an hour's grace, though. At any rate, I will wait here three-quarters of an hour, and if in that time I hear nothing from Rothsay or Cora, I shall go down the mountain to explain the situation to Neville." So saying, Mr. Clarence took out his pipe, filled and lighted it, and smoked. Corona, like a somnambulist or a blind woman, went slowly toward the log cabin, holding out her hands before her. She soon reached it, leaned for a moment against the log wall to recover her breath and her courage, and then knocked. The door was instantly opened, and Regulas Rothsay stood on the threshold, still clothed in his hunter's suit of buckskin, but without the fur cap--the same Rule, unchanged except in habiliments and in the length of his untrimmed, tawny hair and beard. In the instant of meeting she raised her eyes to his, and read in them the undying love of his heart. With a cry of rapture, of infinite relief and infinite content, she sank upon his doorstep, clasped his knees, and laid her beautiful head down prone on his feet. Only for a second. He instantly raised her in his arms, pressed her to his heart, kissed her, and kissed her again and again, bore her into the cabin, placed her in the only chair, and knelt down beside her. She turned and threw her arms around his neck, and dropped her head upon his bosom. And not a word was spoken between them. The emotions of both were too great for utterance, too great almost for endurance. They were bathed in a flood of light from the noonday sun pouring its rays through the open door and windows of the cabin. It was the apotheosis of love. Rule was the first to speak.