At this point a long call came across the ravine. “Ah, there they are,” cried the girl. “Let's hurry, please do.” She brought her whip down unexpectedly on Kitty's shoulders. The mare, surprised at such unusual treatment from her mistress, sprang forward, slipped on the moss-covered sloping rock, plunged, recovered herself, slipped again, and fell over on her side. At her first slip, the young man was off his horse, and before the mare finally pitched forward was at her head, and had caught the girl from the saddle into his arms. For a moment she lay there white and breathing hard. “My God, Kathleen!” he cried. “You are hurt? You might have been killed.” His eyes burned like two blazing lights, his voice was husky, his face white. Suddenly crushing her to him, he kissed her on the cheek and again on her lips. The girl struggled to get free. “Oh, let me go, let me go,” she cried. “How can you, how can you?” But his arms were like steel about her, and again and again he continued to kiss her, until, suddenly relaxing, she lay white and shuddering in his arms. “Kathleen,” he said, his voice hoarse with passion, “I love you, I love you. I want you. Gott in Himmel, I want you. Open your eyes, Kathleen, my darling. Speak to me. Open your eyes. Look at me. Tell me you love me.” But still she lay white and shuddering. Suddenly he released her and set her on her feet. She stood looking at him with quiet, searching eyes. “You love me,” she said, her voice low and quivering with a passionate scorn, “and you treat me so? Let us go.” She moved toward her horse. “Kathleen, hear me,” he entreated. “You must hear me. You shall hear me.” He caught her once more by the arm. “I forgot myself. I saw you lying there so white. How could I help it? I meant no harm. I have loved you since you were a little girl, since that day I saw you first herding the cattle. You had a blue dress and long braids. I loved you then. I have loved you every day since. I think of you and I dream of you. The world is full of you. I am offering you marriage. I want you to be my wife.” The hands that clutched her arm were shaking, his voice was thick and broken. But still she stood with her face turned from him, quietly trying to break from his grasp. But no word did she speak. “Kathleen, I forgot myself,” he said, letting go of her arm. “I was wrong, but, my God, Kathleen, I am not stone, and when I felt your heart beat against mine--” “Oh,” she cried, shuddering and drawing further away from him. “--and your face so white, your dear face so near mine, I forgot myself.” “No,” said the girl, turning her face toward him and searching him with her quiet, steady, but contemptuous eyes, “you forgot me.” CHAPTER IX EXCEPT HE STRIVE LAWFULLY