"Our Father," she said in a voice that sounded miles away to herself. Was

there any Father, and could He hear her? And did He care? "Which art in

heaven--" but heaven was so far away and looked so cruelly serene to her

in her desolateness and danger! "hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come--"

whatever that might mean. "Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven."

It was a long prayer to pray, alone with the pale moon-rain and the

graves, and a distant wolf, but it was her mother's wish. Her will being

done here over the dead--was that anything like the will of the Father

being done in heaven? Her untrained thoughts hovered on the verge of

great questions, and then slipped back into her pathetic self and its

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fear, while her tongue hurried on through the words of the prayer.

Once the horse stirred and breathed a soft protest. He could not

understand why they were stopping so long in this desolate place, for

nothing apparently. He had looked and looked at the shapeless mound before

which the girl was standing; but he saw no sign of his lost master, and

his instincts warned him that there were wild animals about. Anyhow, this

was no place for a horse and a maid to stop in the night.

A few loose stones rattled from the horse's motion. The girl started, and

looked hastily about, listening for a possible pursuer; but everywhere in

the white sea of moonlight there was empty, desolate space. On to the

"Amen" she finished then, and with one last look at the lonely graves she

turned to the horse. Now they might go, for the duty was done, and there

was no time to be lost.

Somewhere over toward the east across that untravelled wilderness of white

light was the trail that started to the great world from the little cabin

she had left. She dared not go back to the cabin to take it, lest she find

herself already followed. She did not know the way across this lonely

plain, and neither did the horse. In fact, there was no way, for it was

all one arid plain so situated that human traveller seldom came near it,

so large and so barren that one might wander for hours and gain no goal,

so dry that nothing would grow.

With another glance back on the way she had come, the girl mounted the

horse and urged him down into the valley. He stepped cautiously into the

sandy plain, as if he were going into a river and must try its depth. He

did not like the going here, but he plodded on with his burdens. The girl

was light; he did not mind her weight; but he felt this place uncanny, and

now and then would start on a little spurt of haste, to get into a better

way. He liked the high mountain trails, where he could step firmly and

hear the twigs crackle under his feet, not this muffled, velvet way where

one made so little progress and had to work so hard.




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