The dim darkened new moon was shining down upon the young people with the tender radiance of spring folly; they were young; Dian's heart was very sore with the quivering emotions wrought up in the last twenty-four hours. She liked Charlie Rose, for he was as wholesome and pure as he was honest, and he was always bright and gay. The night was very lonely.
"Of course, we shall miss you, Charlie. All the boys, even to Tom Allen, are out in the canyons. It is very lonely."
"You have Henry Boyle left," said her companion, somewhat maliciously.
"Pooh!" contemptuously. "He is almost ready to apostatize; he is scared to death over this army business. He has asked Governor Cumming to let him go out of the Territory under the protection of the soldiers."
"Can that be true, Dian? I would not have thought him a traitor as well as a coward."
"Are not all cowards traitors?"
"Hardly, Dian. That's too sweeping. But I am surprised about Henry. He cut quite a shine here for months."
The girl began to open her gate; she knew that her brother did not approve of young people standing at the gate in the late evenings.
"Dian, listen just one moment; here, wear this ring for me while I am gone; won't you?" As he spoke he drew a pretty ring from his finger, evidently an heirloom in his family. Rings were rare in those days, and Dian's eyes sparkled. She knew that she was not in love with Charlie; but neither was she with anyone else. Why should she not wear a ring?
"I will wear it awhile, Charlie, but I won't keep it. You must give it to the girl you are going to marry."