But Berrie was now too deep in her own desolation to care what he said or did. She kissed the cold lips of the still youth, murmuring passionately: "I don't care to live without you--I shall go with you!" Belden's hand was on her wrist before she could raise her weapon. "Don't, for God's sake, don't do that! He may not be dead." She responded but dully to the suggestion. "No, no. He's gone. His breath is gone." "Maybe not. Let me see." Again she bent to the quiet face on which the sunlight fell with mocking splendor. It seemed all a dream till she felt once more the stain of his blood upon her hands. It was all so incredibly sudden. Only just now he was exulting over the warmth and beauty of the day--and now-- How beautiful he was. He seemed asleep. The conies crying from their runways suddenly took on poignant pathos. They appeared to be grieving with her; but the eagles spoke of revenge. A sharp cry, a note of joy sprang from her lips. "He _is_ alive! I saw his eyelids quiver--quick! Bring some water." The man leaped to his feet, and, running down to the pool, filled his sombrero with icy water. He was as eager now to save his rival as he had been mad to destroy him. "Let me help," he pleaded. But she would not permit him to touch the body. Again, while splashing the water upon his face, the girl called upon her love to return. "He hears me!" she exulted to her enemy. "He is breathing now. He is opening his eyes." The wounded man did, indeed, open his eyes, but his look was a blank, uncomprehending stare, which plunged her back into despair. "He don't know me!" she said, with piteous accent. She now perceived the source of the blood upon her arm. It came from a wound in the boy's head which had been dashed upon a stone. The sight of this wound brought back the blaze of accusing anger to her eyes. "See what you did!" she said, with cold malignity. Then by sudden shift she bent to the sweet face in her arms and kissed it passionately. "Open your eyes, darling. You must not die! I won't let you die! Can't you hear me? Don't you know where you are?" He opened his eyes once more, quietly, and looked up into her face with a faint, drowsy smile. He could not yet locate himself in space and time, but he knew her and was comforted. He wondered why he should be looking up into a sunny sky. He heard the wind and the sound of a horse cropping grass, and the voice of the girl penetratingly sweet as that of a young mother calling her baby back to life, and slowly his benumbed brain began to resolve the mystery. Belden, forgotten, ignored as completely as the conies, sat with choking throat and smarting eyes. For him the world was only dust and ashes--a ruin which his own barbaric spirit had brought upon itself. Slowly the youth's eyes took on expression. "Are we still on the hill?" he asked. "Yes, dearest," she assured him. Then to Belden, "He knows where he is!" Wayland again struggled with reality. "What has happened to me?"