A big, golden moon had come up over the jagged edge of the eastern hills,--a moon that left the valley in a mystic sheen of gold and blue, and threw their shadows madly into one as they walked.

They heard the drowsy chirp of the cricket, now harmless, and the low cry of an owl.

They felt the languorous warmth of the night, spiced with a hint of chilliness, and they felt each other near.

They had felt this nearness before.

One of them had learned to fear it, to tremble for himself at the thought of it.