Edward Longstreet. And Courtot and Sanchia had seen him.

He jogged along placidly. They could fancy him smiling contentedly.
Helen and Howard watched him; he was coming toward them. They glanced
swiftly across the ravine; there the two figures stood close together,
evidently conversing earnestly. The sun was not yet up. Longstreet
rode into a thickness of shadow and disappeared. In five minutes he
came into sight again. Courtot and Sanchia had not stirred. But now,
as though galvanized, they moved. Courtot leaped from his boulder and
began hurrying down into the cañon, seeking to come up with the man on
the horse. Sanchia followed. Even at the distance, however, she
seemed slack-footed, like one who, having played out the game, knows
that it is defeat.

'Papa is coming this way!--Jim Courtot is following him--in ten minutes
more----'

She did not finish. Howard put his arms about her and felt her body
shaking.

'You do love me,' he whispered.

She jerked away from him. A new look was in her eyes.

'Alan Howard,' she said steadily, 'I love you. With my whole heart and
soul! But our love can never come to anything unless you love me just
exactly as I love you!'

'Don't you know----'