possible--that she smiles from her heart at that beast? Non! It is
impossible. And yet--if it is so--"

One of his brown hands tightened convulsively about the handle of the
knife in his belt, and slowly he began to follow them.

McTaggart did not hurry to overtake Nepeese. She was following the
narrow path deeper into the forest, and he was glad of that. They would
be alone--away from Pierrot. He was ten steps behind her, and again the
Willow smiled at him over her shoulder. Her body moved sinuously and
swiftly. She was keeping accurate measurement of the distance between
them--but McTaggart did not guess that this was why she looked back
every now and then. He was satisfied to let her go on. When she turned
from the narrow trail into a side path that scarcely bore the mark of
travel, his heart gave an exultant jump. If she kept on, he would very
soon have her alone--a good distance from the cabin. The blood ran hot
in his face. He did not speak to her, through fear that she would stop.
Ahead of them he heard the rumble of water. It was the creek running
through the chasm.

Nepeese was making straight for that sound. With a little laugh she
started to run, and when she stood at the edge of the chasm, McTaggart
was fully fifty yards behind her. Twenty feet sheer down there was a
deep pool between the rock walls, a pool so deep that the water was the
color of blue ink. She turned to face the factor from Lac Bain. He had
never looked more like a red beast to her. Until this moment she had
been unafraid. But now--in an instant--he terrified her. Before she
could speak what she had planned to say, he was at her side, and had
taken her face between his two great hands, his coarse fingers twining
in the silken strands of her thick braids where they fell over her