And he kissed both the hands he held, dropped them, turned and mounted Golden, waved a hand to all the Holding, and putting the horse to a run, went down the sounding-board as if he dared not look back. Until horse and rider were a tiny speck on the living green--until they passed the Silver Hollow and the mouth of Black Coulee, Tharon Last stood in the western door and watched them with dim blue eyes. Ail the wide expanse of Lost Valley was still and sweet with dawn, smiling as if with a new and wondrous peace, the Vestal's Veil shimmered on the Rockface, the distant peaks above the Canon Country cut the skies. She scanned the little world about and felt this peace press down upon her soul--as if the questions all were answered, the duty done. Never in all her life before had Last's Holding seemed to her so secure and settled, so sweet and to be desired.... Within it lay her destiny--the man in the cool south room. Without in the great Valley lay a future. Love was with her--friendship would be with her always in memory, one glowing with its vital presence, the other softened and doubly sweet with the sorrow of absence. She raised her hand and made the sign of the Cross between herself and that disappearing speck, then she turned and followed old Anita carrying gruels to that dim south room. THE END