“Where?” she whispered.
“Away from this Mormon country—to the East,” he replied, and he spoke of what he had known, of travel, of cities, of people, of happiness possible for a young girl who had spent all her life hidden between the narrow walls of a silent, lonely valley—he spoke swiftly and eloquently till he lost his breath.
There was an instant of flashing wonder and joy on her white face, and then the radiance paled, the glow died. Her soul was the darker for that one strange, leaping glimpse of a glory not for such as she.
“I must stay here,” she said, shudderingly.
“Fay!—How strange to SAY Fay aloud to YOU!—Fay, do you know the way to Surprise Valley?”
“I don't know where it is, but I could go straight to it,” she replied.
“Take me there. Show me your beautiful valley. Let me see where you ran and climbed and spent so many lonely years.”
“Ah, how I'd love to! But I dare not. And why should you want me to take you? We can run and climb here.”
“I want to—I mean to save Jane Withersteen and Lassiter,” he declared.
She uttered a little cry of pain. “Save them?”