with strange, elusive whisperings; premonitory warnings of something wonderfully sweet. If she dwelt upon these most; if her mind's eye saw beside her at times in the starlight a long shape, lean of limb and lean of face, with eyes constantly filled with troubled shadows, but true and unfaltering--who would say her nay? For the approach of love is a beautiful mystery, fraught with emotions which frighten while they charm, which awe while they inspire, and there is no more sacred or precious time in a young girl's life than that when her soul quickens in response to the summons of love. So preoccupied was she that Julia barely heard the shriek of the express from the north as it thundered into the station in Macon. But the sound of the whistle recalled her to herself--made her remember why she was sitting there. It was hard to give up dreams for reality. But she faced the road and pressed her lips together, and waited. She heard the train pull out and resume its journey southward; its rumble became fainter and fainter and was lost in the distance. Then she fell to listening for another sound which she dreaded, yet hoped to hear. She wanted him to return that night. She wanted the fearful task over and done while her courage was high. She was perfectly aware that nothing short of desperation could have driven her to this determination. She felt it of the utmost importance that he should return that night. But the minutes passed, and he did not come. A vehicle went by, and later a horse at a canter. Neither of these was Devil Marston. She did not need the aid of light to tell her when he rode by. The air began to grow a little chilly. She had come out without wrap of any kind, and all at once she realized her imprudence. She arose with a slight shiver, and stood for a moment with head inclined attentively. What was it? Hoofs? She held her breath and waited. An indistinguishable sound was on the air. It was lost; it came again faintly. Then suddenly it burst upon her ears unmistakably--the noise of a horse running at breakneck speed. She shuddered involuntarily, but tarried yet a moment longer to be sure. Then he passed in his whirlwind way--she heard again that sound in the night which never failed to bring terror to her heart--and then she went in and locked the door and went up to her room. She had grown calm. She was surprised at her own coolness, and the deliberateness with which she went about her preparations to retire. Even when she opened her bureau drawer and took therefrom a pearl-handled, thirty-two caliber revolver, she was not stirred. Her father had given it to her on her sixteenth birthday, and had taught her how to use it. She could shoot straight. She even smiled as she laid it down in front of the mirror, after breaking it to see that its chambers were full. Her adventure in the morning would be fraught with danger, and the revolver which she knew so well how to handle should go with her when she made her call on Devil Marston.