From the gate of the patio¹ Connor, watching all that time in a nightmare of suspense², saw, first of all, the single figure of David come around the trees, David alone and walking. But before that shock passed he saw Glani at the heels of the master, and then, farther back, Ruth!  
She had passed the gate and two-thirds of the battle was fought and won. Yet all was not well, as he plainly saw. With long, swift steps David came over the terrace, and finally paused as if his thoughts had stopped him. He turned as Glani passed, and the girl came up to him; his extended arm halted Abra and he stood looking up to the girl and speaking. Only the faint murmur³ of his voice came unintelligibly⁴ to Connor, but he recognized danger in it as clearly as in the hum of bees. Suddenly the girl, answering, put out her hands as if in gesture of surrender. Another pause—it was only a matter of a second or so, but it was a space for life or death with Connor. In that interval⁵ he knew that his scheme was made or ruined. What had the girl said? Perhaps that mighty⁶ extended arm holding back Abra had frightened her, and with the wind blowing his long black hair aside, David of Eden was a figure wild enough to alarm her. Perhaps in fear of her life she had exposed the whole plan. If so, it meant broken bones for Connor.
 
But now David turned again, and this time he was talking by the side of Abra as they came up the hill. He talked with many gestures, and the girl was laughing down to him.
 
"God bless her!" muttered Connor impulsively⁷. "She's a true-blue one!"
 
He remembered his part in the nick of time as they came closer, and David helped the girl down from the saddle and brought her forward. The gambler drew himself up and made his face grave with disapproval⁸. Now or never he must prove to David that there was no shadow of a connection between him and the girl. Yet he was by no means easy. There was something forced and stereotyped⁹ in the smile of the girl that told him she had been through a crucial test and was still near the breaking point.
 
David presented them to one another uneasily. He was even a little embarrassed under the accusing eye of Connor.
 
"I make you known, Ruth," he said, "to my brother Benjamin. He is that man of whom I told you."
 
"I am happy," said the girl, "to be known to him."
 
"That much I cannot say," replied the gambler.
 
He turned upon David with outstretched arm.
 
"Ah, David, I have warned you!"
 
"As Abraham warned me against you, Benjamin. And dying men speak truth."
 
The counter-attack was so shrewd, so unexpected, that the gambler, for the moment, was thrown completely off his guard.
 
He could only murmur: "You are the judge for yourself, David."
 
"I am. Do not think that the power is in me. But God loves the Garden and His voice is never far from me. Neither are the spirits of the four who lived here before me and made this place. When there is danger they warn me. When I am in error the voice of God corrects me. And just as I heard the voice against the woman, Ruth, and heed¹⁰ it not."
 
He seemed to have gathered conviction for himself, much needed conviction, as he spoke¹¹. He turned now toward the girl.
 
"Be not wroth with Benjamin; and bear him no malice¹²."
 
"I bear him none in the world," she answered truthfully, and held out her hand.
 
But Connor was still in his rôle. He folded his arms and pointedly¹³ disregarded the advance.
 
"Woman, let there be peace and few words between us. My will is the will of David."
 
"There speaks my brother!" cried the master of the valley.
 
"And yet," muttered Connor, "why is she here?"
 
"She came to buy a horse."
 
"But they are not sold."
 
"That is true. Yet she has traveled far and she is in great need of food and drink. Could I turn her away hungry, Benjamin?"
 
"She could have been fed at the gate. She could surely have rested there."
 
It was easy to see that David was hardpressed. His eye roved eagerly to Ruth. Then a triumphant¹⁴ explanation sparkled in his eye.
 
"It is the horse she rides, a gelding from my Garden. His lot in the world has been hard. He is scarred with the spur and the whip. I have determined¹⁵ to take him back, at a price. But who can arrange matters of buying and selling all in a moment? It is a matter for much talk. Therefore she is here."
 
"I am answered," said Connor, and turning to Ruth he winked¹⁶ broadly.
 
"It is well," said David, "and I foresee happy days. In the meantime there is a duty before me. Abraham must be laid in his grave and I leave Ruth to your keeping, Benjamin. Bear with her tenderly for my sake."
 
He stepped to the girl.
 
"You are not afraid?"............