in the past, but now I hate it; how horribly it has tortured me! Take
me away, I beg,--anywhere, so that I can neither see nor hear it any
more. It has neither heart nor soul." And she hid her face behind the
streaming hair.

"You will trust me, then?" I asked, for I had little knowledge of
women. "You will go with me?"

She flung the clinging locks back from her eyes, with an odd, imperious
gesture which I thought most becoming, holding them in place with one
hand, while extending the other frankly toward me.

"Go with you? Yes," she replied, unhesitatingly. "I have known many
men such as you are, men of the border, and have always felt free to
trust them; they are far more true to helpless womanhood than many a
perfumed cavalier. You have a face that speaks of honor and manliness.
Yes, I will go with you gladly."

I was deeply impressed by her sudden calmness, her rapid repression of
that strange wildness of demeanor that had at first so marked her words
and manner. As I partially lifted her from the boat to the sand, she
staggered heavily, and would have fallen had I not instantly caught her
to me. For a single moment her dark eyes looked up confidingly into
mine, as she rested panting against my shoulder, and I could feel her
slender form tremble within my arms.

"You are ill--faint?" I questioned anxiously.

She drew back from me with all gentleness, and did not venture again to
attempt standing entirely without support.