A slender form rounded the corner wall. It was Mescal. The white dog
Wolf hung close by her side. Swiftly she reached Hare.
"Mescal!" he exclaimed.
"Hush! Speak softly," she whispered fearfully. Her hands were clinging
to his.
"Jack, do you love me still?"
More than woman's sweetness was in the whisper; the portent of
indefinable motive made Hare tremble like a shaking leaf.
"Good heavens! You are to be married in a few minutes--What do you mean?
Where are you going? this buckskin suit--and Wolf with you-- Mescal!"
"There's no time--only a word--hurry--do you love me still?" she panted,
with great shining eyes close to his.
"Love you? With all my soul!"
"Listen," she whispered, and leaned against him. A fresh breeze bore the
boom of the river. She caught her breath quickly: "I love you!--I love
you!--Good-bye!"
She kissed him and broke from his clasp. Then silently, like a shadow,
with the white dog close beside her, she disappeared in the darkness of
the river trail.
She was gone before he came out of his bewilderment. He rushed down the
trail; he called her name. The gloom had swallowed her, and only the
echo of his voice made answer.
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