"Like a rat in a trap!" he jeered at himself. "Like a rat in a
trap, Ned Trent! The fates are drawing around you close. You need
just one little thing, and you cannot get it. Bribery is useless!
Force is useless! Craft is useless! This afternoon I thought I
saw another way. What I could get no other way I might get from
this little girl. She is only a child. I believe I could touch
her pity--ah, Ned Trent, Ned Trent, can you ever forget her
frightened, white face begging you to be kind?" He paced back and
forth between the two bronze guns with long, straight strides, like
a panther in a cage. "Her aid is mine for the asking--but she
makes it impossible to ask! I could not do it. Better try _la
Longue Traverse_ than take advantage of her pity--she'd surely get
into trouble. What wonderful eyes she has. She thinks I am a
brute--how she sobbed, as though her little heart had broken.
Well, it was the only way to destroy her interest in me. I had to
do it. Now she will despise me and forget me. It is better that
she should think me a brute than that I should be always haunted by
those pleading eyes." The door of the distant church house opened
and closed. He smiled bitterly. "To be sure, I haven't tried
that." he acknowledged. "Their teachings are singularly apropos to
my case--mercy, justice, humanity--yes, and love of man. I'll try
it. I'll call for help on the love of man, since I cannot on the
love of woman. The love of woman--ah----yes."

He set his feet reflectively toward the chapel.




Chapter Nine