CHAPTER XIII.

THE FACE AT THE WINDOW.

“So the mystery of the disappearing horseman is explained very satisfactorily at last, Vinnie,” said Darke, after their surprise had subsided somewhat.

“Yes,” she replied, “all but the mystery of his disappearance.”

“True,” said her father; “we are still in the dark concerning that. How could it have been accomplished?”

“I know not. It vanished before my very eyes!”

“It was doubtless owing to some peculiar turn of the path he was following, or something of that sort,” reasoned the woodman. “A very sudden turn among the dense growth of shrubbery that is so thick about the place might have concealed the white horse and his rider from view almost instantly.”

“I think very likely it was owing to that or a similar cause,” returned Vinnie. “I suppose we shall have to accept that explanation till a better one presents itself. It is strange that I should have allowed myself to be alarmed at so trivial a matter. I do not think I am superstitious. But that limp, helpless-looking black thing did appear ghastly through the storm!”

It will be remembered that Clancy had not heard of Vinnie’s adventures and perils of the day before; and he did not understand the conversation that the others had kept up for the past few minutes. Noting the questioning look on his face, the woodman said:

“There is still another story of peril and escape that you are yet to hear. I believe I will take a short bout in the forest in search of a turkey; and if I am successful we’ll have a supper fit for the President. Vinnie can tell you the story while I am gone. Be sure you don’t leave out any of the important points, and don’t forget to mention your lover’s visit yesterday. A truthful account of the _shocking_ manner in which you treated him ought to be a caution to sparks! If I was a young fellow, now—”

“There now! stop!” said Vinnie, with a vivid blush. “I think you’re really too bad! And besides, you are not fit to go out to-day, after your hurt, and—”

“That will do,” interrupted Darke, banteringly, examining the lock of his rifle the while. “I am well enough for any thing now, and I mean to take just this one more hunt while I’ve an opportunity. I dare not leave you here any more alone, you know, and I’m going while I’ve got Clancy here to keep guard over you! So good-by, and don’t think of my coming back for two hours at the very soonest!”

She went up to him for her customary kiss.

“There,” said he, as he bent and pressed his lips to hers. “Good-by, little one. And, Clancy, I want you to see that no one repeats this operation during my absence. She’s all I’ve got, and I leave her in your care. Don’t forget the story, Vinnie!” And a moment later he passed out, closely followed by the blood-hound. Vinnie seized hold of one of the great brute’s long ears, and bending low over him, to hide her flushed face from Clancy’s view, said, playfully:

“There, Death, don’t run away from him as you did from me yesterday!”

Then, while the young hunter thought she was putting herself to a great deal of useless trouble, considering that the room was very warm already, she went and busied herself at the hearth, for what seemed to him a very long time, stirring the fire and putting on more wood.

“What story does your father mean?” he asked, when she had at last finished. “I thought from what you said that you saw the dwarf when he was carrying me to the cave. It can not be that you were out in that terrible storm?”

“But I was,” said Vinnie, with a smile, “and I half think I was the victim of almost as serious a series of accidents as yourself. Papa told me to tell you the story, and I suppose I must obey. Are you sure it will be of interest to you?”

“Yes,” he replied, eagerly. “I know it will be of interest to me. Tell it, please.”

And, half shyly at first, Vinnie complied with his request. He interrupted her many times during her recital, with exclamations of surprise and wonder; and when she had finished, and sat demurely before him, with her little hands folded in her lap, and her lovely face sober and thoughtful, he said:

“Heaven be praised for your deliverance! What if you had not escaped?”

“Why, then, I suppose—” she began, surprised at his excited manner. But he cut short what she would have said, by saying, vehemently:

“If you had not, I would not now account my life worth as much as a burnt charge of powder!”

Vinnie glanced up at him quickly, but her long lashes drooped as she met his ardent look.

He arose to his feet, and standing up before her, went on in rapid, eager tones:

“I love you, Vinnie Darke, as I can never love another woman in the whole world! I ask for your love in return. Can you—will you give it to me, Vinnie darling?”

She sat silent a moment—a moment that seemed interminable to the anxious young hunter—with flushed face and downcast eyes. The next, she was clasped in his strong arms, and he pressed a tender kiss on her brow, as he said, in a low voice:

“Do you love me, Vinnie?”

The lovely, golden-brown head bent down until it was pillowed on his bosom, the red, full lips were pressed half timidly to his, the deep, loving blue eyes looked trustfully up into his own, and Clancy knew that she was his till death!

“My own darling Vinnie!” said he, proudly.

“Yes,” she whispered, “yours always!”

I am afraid if the woodman could have seen the little episode that was taking place in the cabin then, he would have thought Clancy just the least bit forgetful of the injunction he had put upon him when he went away—of course he would not willfully ignore it!

There was a slight, almost imperceptible sound outside the cabin, that escaped the young hunter’s usually quick ear, and a dark face was pressed for an instant against one of the lower panes of the little window at the side of the door. It was withdrawn almost as soon as it appeared.

“And you will be my wife, Vinnie—mine to love and cherish always?” Clancy went on.

“Yes.”

“And your father? What will he say?”

“I do not think he will oppose us very strongly,” she said, remembering his words to her that afternoon.

“We will ask him and see, when he comes back.”

Again that dark face peered into the room a moment and then vanished as it had done before.

But so engrossed were they with each other—their minds so filled with their new-found happiness—that they had no time to think of any thing else.

“How hard I shall try to be worthy of your priceless love, and to make your life happy!” said the young hunter, as she released herself from his embrace. As she stood up, her eyes were turned toward the window.

The face was flattened against the glass again!

“Merciful Heaven!” she cried, “there is Ku-nan-gu-no-nah! Oh, Clancy, save me!”