love that had dared all things for her, and would do so unflinchingly on to the end, whatsoever that end might still be. A wild, senseless, fiery intoxication of joy was upon him; he knew no pain, he knew no weakness, he fled with her alone through the night. Come what future there would, no fate could wash this out, no fate could steal this from him;—that once his arm had thrust dishonour and death back from her, that once his heart alone had been her shield against her foes.
The first grey gleam of dawn was breaking where the morning star hung in the deep mystical blue of night, when their horses, panting, worn, steaming, covered with foam, and staggering in their gallop, tore down through forest glades of oak and bark into the heart of woods where once the altars of Dionysus had arisen, and the print upon the thyme where the wild goat had wandered had been kissed by shepherds' lips as sacred ground touched by the hallowing hoof of Pan. The wood stretched up a hill-side's slope, dark even by day, so thickly woven were the old gnarled boughs, so heavy was the foliage even in summer drought, from the hidden streams that ran beneath its soil, sun-sheltered and making cool liquid music through the gloom, rising none knew whence,
