King saw lying on the table the package done up in an old cloth which she had brought.  Further, he knew that he had seen it before and where he had seen it.  He knew that at last he had old Loony Honeycutt’s secret where he could put out his hand to it, with none to gainsay him.  He knew that with it was a message from his old friend Ben; that Ben, himself, lay at this moment in Coloma hurt.  And yet his eyes clung to the eyes of Gloria and all of these things were swept aside in his mind.  He saw that when her eyes came to a meeting with his the flush in her cheeks grew hotter.  He tried to remember how he had come away from her in San Francisco; how he had given her up for all time.  But that memory blurred; in its place he stood with her on a boulder in a creek, holding her in his arms; he stood with her on a mountain top, with the world lost below them.  He sought to get a grip on himself; here and now was no time to talk to her of love.  She was alone; it was his one job right now to take Ben’s place, to protect her and efface his own madness.  But was he mad?  And was now no time, after all?  She was alone, yes; but if some day she would marry him, was not now the time?  What would he not give for the right to stop the nasty mouth of Gratton once and for all.

Fragmentary thoughts, by no means logically aligned.  They came and went with other thoughts between, pro and con.  But thoughts do not always sway destiny.  In the crisis often enough there is no time for so slow a process as thinking; instinct leaps.  Instinct compels.  All of the thought in the world will not draw a steel needle to a bit of wood; all of the thought in the world will not hold back the same needle from a magnet.  There are urges which must be obeyed, the urge of spinning worlds to circling suns, the urge of man to maid.

“Gloria!” he said huskily.  “Gloria!”

“Yes, Mark?” she said quietly, trying to speak very calmly and as though she did not know, oh, so well, all that tumult that lay behind his calling her name.  But despite her determination she was agitated; the moment had come; there was no stopping it.  And did she want it?  What did she want?  What, exactly, did she feel?

She knew what was in his heart!  His soul exulted as the certainty rushed upon him.  She knew what he was going to say; words were needless between them.  And the colour merely deepened in her cheeks while she hid her eyes from him.

He came to her swiftly.  She rose as swiftly to her feet.  He saw that a tremor shook her.  He saw that she did not draw back from him; her eyes at last lifted to meet his own.  They baffled him; he could not read their meaning.  But they shone on him softly; they were the eyes of her whom he loved.  Like magnet and steel they were swept together.  He had her in his arms; he felt against his breast the wild flutter of her heart, against his face the soft brushing of her hair.  He felt her body tense but unresisting in his arms; suddenly she relaxed, her head was against his breast.  Gloria in his arms—­Gloria’s sweet face hidden from him against his rough shirt——­