Releasing her hands, he drew the girl close to him, and imprinted a fervent kiss upon her burning lips.
"Glen, Glen!" he murmured. "You are mine at last. I know you love me, and are now my very own. Tell me that you love me."
In reply, Glen threw her arms around his neck, while tears of joy stole down her cheeks.
"I love you. I love you," she whispered. "Oh, I am so happy! You will never leave me, will you?"
For some time they stood there, lost to the world around them. It was the old true story being repeated by that wilderness lake. It was love made perfect by the union of two young hearts, the flowing together of two souls, the sudden bursting into bloom of the seed of affection, which had been steadily developing for weeks past.
And as they stood there, whispering of things revealed only to true ardent lovers, and their faces aglow with the light of a great and a new-found joy, the atmosphere suddenly changed. Great clouds had massed on the mountains, and the wind was whipping down the valley, ruffling the surface of the lake. The air grew cold, and Glen shivered. Then it was that they first realised the change that had taken place, and they both laughed. But Glen's face grew instantly sober.
"What will daddy say?" she breathed. "We must tell him as soon as he comes home."
"How does he generally punish a thief?" Reynolds smilingly asked as they walked slowly back to the cabin. "I have stolen the greatest treasure he possesses, the heart of his only child."
"That remains to be seen," was the laughing reply. "He may punish you, though, by inflicting upon you for life that which you have stolen. Won't that be punishment enough?"