at the rear, which showed a larger window, and a narrow door at one corner, protected by a porch. It appeared desolate and deserted, the loneliness accentuated by the empty hitching racks on either side. Beyond I caught glimpse of the white ribbon of road, running straight across the level, and dipping down into the depression beyond. There was no movement, no sign of life, anywhere visible—just that desolate, deserted church, standing in rough outline amid the red mist of evening. I stood silent, gazing in every direction, until assured that we were alone on the ridge. Then I retraced my steps to where she waited.
"The way is clear," I said, in answer to her uplifted eyes. "But it will hardly be safe to take the road for some hours yet. Shall we remain here?"
"If you think it safe I would prefer to walk forward to the church; it might be open."
"Oh, I imagine it will be safe enough, and we can leave the horses here out of sight. But are you not tired?"
"No," rising to her feet, "you forget I am a mountain girl. I was breathless from tugging at the horse; but I am all right now. They say you can see the road for miles from the church tower."
"Then we will take a peep, if we can break in before daylight ends; I had not thought of that."
