Slowly she paces--her knees trembling a little in the vividness of that deliberate reconstruction--to the very place of their parting. A bend in the grass over-flung path hides it from her till she is close upon it. The intervening curve is rounded, and her goal is reached. Rooted to the earth she stands; for hasn’t the force of her compelling passion evoked his spirit to meet hers? Yet had ever spirit such shoulders? such a sea-tanned face? such a blaze in such eagle eyes? It is no spirit; it is in very truth, in gallant bodily presence, her own dear upstanding fighting man, in the glory and vigour of his manhood, such as till now she has never seen him. “I can neither live nor die without you, and I have come to tell you so!” And the grip of his arms is no dream! FINIS PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES.