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"Well, that might depend on who 'her' is." We had reached the cross-roads and he was turning south.

"Oh, no, not too warm."

Out in the open country how sweet was the silence. Not yet have I forgotten one bright star of that night's sky. My mother and I had studied the stars together. Lately Camille, her letter said, had learned them with her. Now the heavens dropped meanings that were for me and for this night alone. While the form of the maiden--passing fair--yet glimmered in the firmament of my own mind, behind me in the south soared the Virgin; but as some trees screened the low glare of our camp I saw, just rising into view out of the southeast, the unmistakable eyes of the Scorpion. But these fanciful oracles only flattered my moral self-assurance, and I trust that will be remembered which I forgot, that I had not yet known the damsel from one sun to the next.

"Yes." She stooped low under the interlacing boughs and plunged with me into the double darkness.

The sound we had heard was only some stir of nature in her sleep. "I must go," I said.

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