eyes met.

"You--you must not suppose I expected this," she faltered, "--that I
have betrayed you."

There was no doubting her earnestness, nor her disgust at such
treachery.

"Not for a moment. But I must get away. Are you acquainted with the
house?"

"Yes; but two of the men rode around to the well. It would be impossible
now to slip out the back way without discovery." She ran across the
room, and flung open a door. "Go in there and lie down; pretend to be
asleep. If the judge does not inform them of your presence here it may
never be suspected. If he does I must cling to the old story."

I caught her hands, and in the excitement she seemed scarcely aware of
the act.

"You are willing to do this for me?"

"I don't know what I do it for," a little nervous laugh in her voice.
"When one once gets started into deceit there seems to be no end--but go
quick! the officer is coming now."

The room into which I was thrust was darkened by lowered shades, but the
bookcases lining the walls proclaimed it a library. A comfortable
leather couch occupied the space between the two windows. The door
remained half an inch ajar, and, before I could close it, some one