In these blind cups were many skeletons of deer and other animals that had ventured down from the upper world, never to return. Somewhere up here must be the bones of Canon Jim. But the Secret Way was safe. Under every carefully worked out step there was solid stone, for every handhold there was a firm stake set. These stakes were old for the most part, but here and there had been set in a new one--Courtrey's work, they made no doubt, for Courtrey was said to know the Canons. It took Tharon and Billy two hours to make the climb, stopping from time to time to rest. At such times the boy stood close and took her hand. It was grim work looking down the sheer face, and one might well be excused for holding a hand for steadiness. And it would soon be the time for no more touches of this girl's fair self for Billy. And so, climbing steadily and in comparative silence, these two, whose hearts were strong, came at last to the top of False Ridge--a thin knife-blade of stone--and looked abruptly and suddenly down on the other side. With a little gasp Tharon put a hand to her throat, for there, an unbelievably short distance down, lay the Cup o' God, without a doubt. A small, round glade of living green, watered by a whispering stream that lost itself the Lord knew where, it lay like a tiny gem in the pink stone setting. Trees stood in utter quiet about its edges, for there was here no slightest breath of air. Lush grass carpeted its level floor. And there, almost directly under the marked way leading down, lay a tiny camp--the ashes of a dead fire, a gun against a tree, and--here Tharon leaned far out and looked as if her very spirit would penetrate the distance--a blanket spread on the level earth, on which there lay the body of a man! It was a trim body, they could see from where they stood, clad in dark garments of olive drab that hugged the lean limbs close. "Kenset!" whispered Tharon with paling lips. "Kenset of th' foothills,--an'--he--looks," she wet those ashy lips, "he--looks like he is dead." Without another word she set her feet in the precarious way and went down so fast that Billy's heart rose in his throat and choked him, and for the first time since he could remember, he called fervently upon his Maker with honest reverence. He thought at every slip and scramble that she must fall and go hurtling down the Rockface. But that uncanny instinct which had brought her this far was at her command still. She went down faster than it seemed possible for anything to go, and before the rider was able to catch up she had leaped to the grassy floor, and was running forward toward that still form on the blanket. "Kenset!" she cried like a bugle, "Kenset! Kenset! Oh,--David!" And then it was that the quiet form stirred, rolled over on its side, lifted itself on an elbow--and held out two arms that wavered grotesquely, but were eloquent of love's power and its need.