She hurried on, reached the edge of the clearing, and before she thought, she was standing in the open door of the cabin. She heard his footsteps close behind her, but she could not trust herself to look at him yet. Then, while she was struggling for composure, an arm stole around her waist, and his voice whispered in her ear: “Norine, ’twas here you saw me first; here that you saved my life. And, Norine, I want you to tell me here that you love me and will be my wife.” She could not speak; the reaction was too great. She turned in his arms and looked at him. Ah, such a look! What need was there of words, when she told him all he cared to know in that one look? And what words were necessary for Lester Conway, who, just returning from a visit at the Higgins’, had come out into the clearing in time to see Clinton’s arm steal around Norine’s waist--in time to see the two figures blend together as she sank into his arms? He caught a glimpse of her face over her lover’s shoulder, and what need had he of words to tell the story? It was told in the blackened sunshine, repeated by every bird, and leaf, and tree; repeated and repeated by his throbbing heart as he dashed, bare-headed and desperate, through the woods. The strong, self-contained man sank down at the root of an old tree and wept bitter, passionate tears as he tore at the earth with his hands, and repeated again and again: “I have lost her--lost her--lost her!” CHAPTER VIII. NORINE’S WEDDING. And what a walk back that was! When the lovers had exhausted the shanty--and that took some time, for Norine had to relate how she had found him lying on his face upon the floor, and how she had tried in vain to turn him into an easier position; and how she had run on to the Higgins’ and brought back help; and as the story was told falteringly, and interrupted by frequent demonstrations on the part of Clinton, all of which Norine permitted from necessity, it took some little time to fully illustrate the adventure; for Clinton had fallen face downward on the floor--much to Norine’s dismay--and had insisted upon her kneeling by his side and trying to lift his head as she had done. And when she had placed her soft arms around his neck, the graceless scamp had held them close and tight, while Norine blushingly protested that nothing of the sort had happened, and that he was not acting his part properly at all. And when at last they did start homeward, what a pleasant walk it was! Why, the very birds seemed to partake of their enjoyment, and one saucy chipmunk scampered along the path, and, running up on an old log, had sat and rubbed his face with his little paws and frisked his tail, nodded at them mischievously, and scampered off again, probably overcome by the sight of so much happiness.