She thought a moment. "No; it can't be done by the long way. But there
is another way--a third trail, the trail the Gover'ment men made a year
ago when they came to survey. It is a good trail. It is blazed in the
woods and staked on the plains. You cannot miss. But--but there is so
little time." She looked at the clock on the wall. "You cannot leave
here much before sunrise, and--"

"I will leef when de moon rise, at eleven," he interjected.

"You have had no sleep for two nights, and no food. You can't last it
out," she said calmly.

The deliberate look on his face deepened to stubbornness.

"It is my vow to my brudder--he is in purgatore. An' I mus' do it," he
rejoined, with an emphasis there was no mistaking. "You can show me dat
way?"

She went to a drawer and took out a piece of paper. Then, with a point
of blackened stick, as he watched her and listened, she swiftly drew his
route for him.

"Yes, I get it in my head," he said. "I go dat way, but I wish--I wish
it was dat queeck way. I have no fear, not'ing. I go w'en dat moon
rise--I go, bien sur."

"You must sleep, then, while I get some food for you." She pointed to a
couch in a corner. "I will wake you when the moon rises."

For the first time he seemed to realise her, for a moment to leave the