McCloud spoke first.
"If they would let you keep this woman you could not. You are too near to her. You must go away."
"Now?" said the radiant rebel; "when she has come to me? When she is mine? Mine?"
"You must go away," said the other, relentless as Fate.
"She's mine. I'll take her and hold her against the world."
"No, you'll hold her against yourself."
Hal sank feebly down on the bench and clasped his hands in a helpless way.
"I can't. I can't give her up! I can't."
McCloud came to him and put his hand on him.
"Hal, my son," he said affectionately; "I've sometimes wondered why I had to give up my work and come out here to die. Perhaps it was to be your living conscience. To this woman you seem divinely appointed, like the Moquitch Mountains. I've seen her soul go out of herself and stand expectant before you with outstretched arms. Her temperament, her environment, the very strength and weakness of her character put her in your hands. You know that without stopping to question or think she has laid herself at your feet. Are you going to listen to the passion that desires, that demands, that takes, or is your soul going to rise up within you crowned and glorified?"