' And after the
sleigh-loads of men had gone and left the street empty, as I stood with
Craig in the radiant moonlight that made the great mountains about
come near us, from Sandy's sleigh we heard in the distance Baptiste's
French-English song; but the song that floated down with the sound of
the bells from the miners' sleigh was--
'We shall meet on that beautiful shore.'
'Poor old Shaw!' said Craig softly.
When the last sound had died away I turned to him and said--
'You have won your fight.'
'We have won our fight; I was beaten,' he replied quickly, offering
me his hand. Then, taking off his cap, and looking up beyond the
mountain-tops and the silent stars, he added softly, 'Our fight, but His
victory.'
And, thinking it all over, I could not say but perhaps he was right.
CHAPTER IV
MRS. MAVOR'S STORY
The days that followed the Black Rock Christmas were anxious days and
weary, but not for the brightest of my life would I change them now;
for, as after the burning heat or rocking storm the dying day lies
beautiful in the tender glow of the evening, so these days have lost
their weariness and lie bathed in a misty glory.
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