The next morning dawned fair and cloudless, giving promise of one of those royal days, so frequent in the almost perfect climate of the higher altitudes.
Long before noon the heat would be intense, but in the early morning there was wafted down from the mountain side, where the pines were nodding and whispering so mysteriously, a cool, exhilarating breeze, which kissed the surface of the azure lake, sleeping so peacefully, and, awakening immediately into smiles, it lay rippling and dimpling with laughter in the sunlight.
The vines, transplanted by Miss Gladden and Lyle, under their fostering care, had transformed the little porch into a bower of beauty. Here stood Van Dorn, his fair, almost feminine face flushed with pleasure, and his blue eyes sparkling, as the light breeze played with the auburn curls clustering about his forehead, and he looked forth on the beauty of the scene.
“Ah––h!” he exclaimed, drawing a long breath, “isn’t this refreshing after the stifling heat and dust of the journey out here? Isn’t it glorious?”
“It is,” responded Houston, “this is one of the mornings when it is a joy just simply to live and breathe.”
Houston was fired with new ambition that morning; he would no longer have to work alone, keeping his anxieties and doubts, his plans and discoveries alike to himself; from henceforth he would have companionship, counsel and assistance, and he felt a new interest and enthusiasm.
Immediately after breakfast, the two set forth upon their first day’s work. Going first to the mills, Houston secured the services of two or three men who could be spared from the ordinary work, to assist Van Dorn in making preparations for the erection of the machinery; then he left for his early visit to the mines.
It was nearly ten o’clock when, having finished his round of duties at the mines, and coming up to the surface from the cool, underground workings, he found the heat almost unendurable, and strolled over to the mills, to see how Van Dorn was progressing. The latter did not seem averse to stopping for a few moments, and for a while, the two chatted and laughed with the old, careless abandon of their college days, without a thought of the more serious side of life, until, something being needed for the work, which Houston thought was in the tool-house, they proceeded together to look for it.
Houston was still searching for the needed implements, when Van Dorn, who was near the door, called out:
“I say, Everard, here’s a small specimen of humanity who seems to be looking for you in a desperate hurry,” and an instant later, he heard a familiar voice say: