clouds below, and I stopped, holding my breath in awe.

There is no art nor poetry in that wonderful sight; it is
glorious war. The sun charges forth in a vast flame of
inconceivable brilliance; you can almost hear the shout of
victory. He who made the universe is no artist; too often He
forgets restraint, and blinds us.

I turned, almost regretting that I had come, for I had been put
out of tune with my task. Then I mounted the donkey and slowly
traversed the few remaining yards to the Peak.

There, seated in the dazzling sunshine on the edge of a huge
boulder near the eastern precipice, were the two I sought.

Le Mire's head was turned from me as she sat gazing silently at
the tumbling, gorgeous mass of clouds that seemed almost to be
resting on her lap; Harry was looking at her. And such a look!

There was no rival even in nature that could conquer Le Mire;
never, I believe, did woman achieve a more notable victory than
hers of that morning. I watched them for several minutes before I
moved or spoke; and never once did Harry's eyes leave her face.

Then I advanced a step, calling his name; and they turned and
caught sight of me.

"Paul!" cried Harry, leaping to his feet; then he stopped short
and stared at me half defiantly, half curiously, moving close to
Le Mire and placing his hand on her shoulder like a child