This had brought a momentary forgetfulness of the strange look of the heavens and the earth; but the consciousness of it now rushed back with increased alarm.  There were still no clouds to be seen anywhere, no visible signs of an approaching storm; but the thick veil of yellowish vapor was fast drawing an unnatural twilight over the noonday.  Through this awful dimness the sun was shining faintly, like a great globe of heated copper, thus shedding a strange light, even more alarming than the sinister darkness.

Every soul in the wilderness must now have shrunk, shuddering and appalled, before this unmistakable approach of some frightful convulsion of nature.  The people of Cedar House, like all the rest, could do nothing but wait in agony for the unknown blow to fall.  It seemed an endless time in falling; under the breathless, torturing suspense the moments became hours, with no change except a darkening of the unnatural twilight, an increase of the unnatural sultriness, and a deepening of the unnatural stillness.  The little group in the great room of Cedar House sat still and silent, save as they unconsciously drew closer together, moved by the instinct of humanity in common danger.

The girl alone kept her post by the open door and her watch over the forest path, looking for the coming of her lover.  She knew that but one thing could keep him from her side, and with all her longing for his presence, a thrill of happiness came from his absence.  Through all its distress her heart exulted in the thought that he was faithful in his service to suffering humanity, even when love itself beckoned him away.  A great tide of religious gratitude rose in her heart sweeping all fear before it.  The love of a man who was both strong and good—­the greatest gift that life could give to any woman—­was safely hers.  Holding this assurance to her heart, she grew wonderfully calm.  There could be nothing to fear.  In this world or the next, all was well.  A wonderful spiritual exaltation bore her upward on its strong, swift wings, high above all the surrounding gloom and terror, till she rested on a white height of perfect peace.  There was a rapt look on her quiet, pale face as she sat thus with it turned toward the forest path.  She arose quietly and stood in the door, gazing at a shadowy form which came suddenly from under the dark trees.  The thick yellow mist wrapped it darkly, but she presently knew by intuition rather than by sight that Paul was really coming at last, and she flew toward him like a homing bird.  He was urging his horse, but the animal held back with an unwillingness such as he had never shown before; so that when the young man saw the girl flying toward him he leapt from the saddle, leaving the horse to follow or not as he would, and ran to meet her.  As soon as she could speak, she told him that she was not afraid now that he had come, saying it over and over; yet she nevertheless clung to him as if she would never let him go.