He had chosen on the open desert a hollow falling somewhat abruptly from the north, and beneath its shoulder, while Morgan loosened the horses, he scooped and kicked away a mass of snow. The wagon had been drawn just above the point of refuge, and the two men, with the aid of the wind, dumped it over sidewise, making of the body a windbreak over the hollow, a sort of roof, around which the snow, driven by the gale, would heap itself in hard waves. Within this shelter the men stowed Nan. The horses were driven down behind it, and from one of them de Spain took the collar, the tugs, and the whiffletree. He stuck a hitching-strap in his pocket, and while Morgan steadied the Lady's head, de Spain buckled the collar on her, doubled the tugs around the whiffletree, and fastened the roll at her side in front of the saddle. Nan came out and stood beside him as he worked. When he had finished she put her hand on his sleeve. He held her close, Duke listening, to tell her what he meant to try to do. Each knew it well might be the last moment together. "One thing and another have kept us from marriage vows, Nan," said de Spain, beckoning at length to Morgan to step closer that he might clearly hear. "Nothing must keep us longer. Will you marry me?" She looked up into his eyes. "I've promised you I would. I will promise every time you ask me. I never _could_ have but one answer to that, Henry--it must always be yes!" "Then take me, Henry," he said slowly, "here and now for your wedded husband. Will you do this, Nan?" [Illustration: "I've promised you I would. I will promise every time you ask me."] Still looking into his eyes, she answered without surprise or fear: "Henry, I do take you." "And I, Henry, take you, Nan, here and now for my wedded wife, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, from this day forward, until death us do part." They sealed their pact with a silent embrace. De Spain turned to Duke. "You are the witness of this marriage, Duke. You will see, if an accident happens, that anything, everything I have--some personal property--my father's old ranch north of Medicine Bend--some little money in bank at Sleepy Cat--goes to my wife, Nan Morgan de Spain. Will you see to it?" "I will. And if it comes to me--you, de Spain, will see to it that what stock I have in the Gap goes to my niece, Nan, your wife." She looked from one to the other of the two men. "All that I have," she said in turn, "the lands in the Gap, everywhere around Music Mountain, go to you two equally together, or whichever survives. And if you both live, and I do not, remember my last message--bury the past in my grave."