'Good God! don't say it's _him_--not him. What's the name, girl? Who is it?'
His voice was deep and hoarse. The words were forced from his tongue in jerky syllables, barely intelligible. She moved her red lips--scarce knowing if she spoke. Yet a sound proceeded therefrom in a whisper, forming a word, a single name, which caused the figure to clench his fists and swear furiously. Then she almost fell upon him. 'What do you mean?' she cried pitifully. 'Tell me what you mean.'
The forbidding exterior concealed a kindly heart. He looked upon the delicate, upturned face, the small nose, moist eyes, quivering mouth, all framed within the dark wreath of hair. He saw the slight figure, already ripening into the rounded lines of maternity. He thought of the meaning of treachery to that perfect piece of humanity. There might yet be opportunity for saving the heart from death.
'It's nothing, girl,' he said in surly manner. 'I was a bit astonished for a moment.'
'No, no,' she cried, 'it was not that. I cannot be deceived so easily. I saw fear in your face, and there was pity. Ah, yes, there was pity for me; I could see it. Why--tell me why? I have always been so happy. You cannot pity me now. Why should you?'
'It's all right,' he said, with slight knowledge of comforting. 'It's all a mistake of mine, anyway. Don't you bother yourself.'
'I can't believe you. I am trying to, but it is no use. There was that pity upon your face. Ah, tell me. Tell me all--all--all.'
Her voice died into a wail of distress, as she fell on her knees and grasped his hand. This pitiless work had been performed unintentionally; the warmth and young life had been in a moment swept away by a mere suspicion of truth. Without the hut, blasts of north wind blew colder, with flurries of snow, while thin ice sheets formed slowly upon each black swamp pool.
'Where's he now?' came the abrupt question.
'I do not know. I have not seen him since noon.'
'The last boat leaves first thing in the morning.'
The echo of his words had scarcely died away, before a deep sound came vibrating along the wind from the direction of the river. Here was direct contradiction to his statement.
'To-night!' screamed Menotah, springing to the doorway. 'It is the second horn.'