THE SHEPHERD OF THE HILLS
knew. Oh!—if that short summer could have been lengthened—into years, what might I not have done? Oh, God! That men—can be—so blind—so blind!"
For a time he lay exhausted, his face still turned toward the picture, but with eyes closed as though he dreamed. Then suddenly, he started up again, raising himself on his elbows, his eyes opened wide, and on his face a look of wondering gladness. They drew near.
"Do—do—you—hear? She is calling—she is calling again. Yes—sweetheart—yes, dear. I—I am—com—"
Then, Old Matt and Aunt Mollie led the shepherd from the room.
And this way runs the trail that follows the lower level, where those who travel, as they go, look always over their shoulders with eyes of dread, and the gloomy shadows gather long before the day is done.
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