“Now lean on me, Cora, and step carefully, for the path is almost hidden, and very rugged.”

“Oh, Clarence, did he recognize me? did he, Clarence? did he?” she eagerly inquired.

“Yes, Cora, he did,” gravely answered the young uncle.

“And turned and went away!  And turned and went away!  Went away and left me without one word!” she wailed, in doubt and distress.

“Cora, my dear, pray control yourself,” said Clarence, uneasily.

“Did he speak to you?” she suddenly inquired.

“Not one word.”

“Did you speak to him?”

“No; for he was gone in an instant, before I recovered from my astonishment at his appearance.”

“How did he look?—­how did he look when he recognized me?  In anger?”

“No, Corona; but in much sorrow, pity, and tenderness,” gravely replied Clarence.

“Then, why did he leave me?  Oh, why did he turn away from me?”

“My dear, he had every reason to think that his sudden appearance had frightened you, and that his presence grieved and distressed you.”

“Why, oh, why should he have thought so?” she demanded, with increasing agitation.

“My dear girl, you were frightened.  I might say appalled.  You saw him suddenly, and with a half-smothered scream threw your hands to your eyes as if to shut out the sight, and then sank to the ground.  Now what could the man think but that you feared and hated the sight of him?”

“Just as he thought before!  Just as he thought before!”

“And he turned sorrowfully away and walked up to his cabin on the mount, entered, and shut the door.  I saw him do it.”

“Just as he did before!  Just as he did before!  Oh, Rule! what a fatality!  That appearances should always be false and disastrous between us!” she moaned.

“Not in this case, Cora.  At least not from this hour.  Come, we are on the ledge now!” said Clarence, as he helped his niece, who with one more high step stood on the top of the plateau, her back to one of the most glorious prairie scenes in nature, her face to a rocky, pine-dotted precipice, against which stood a double log cabin, with a door in the middle and a window on each side.

“There is the hut!  Now, shall I take you there, or shall I wait here and let you go alone?” he inquired, as they stood side by side gazing on the hut.

She did not answer.  Her eyes were riveted on the door of the cabin, while she leaned heavily on the arm of her uncle.

“I see how it is:  you are weakening, losing courage.  Let me support you to the door,” said Clarence, putting his arm around her waist.

But she drew herself up suddenly.

“Oh, let me go alone, dear Uncle Clarence.  My meeting with Rule should be face to face only,” she replied, still trembling, but resolute.

“Are you sure you can do it?”

“Oh, yes, yes!  My limbs shall no longer refuse their office!”