thought that she must exert strength to escape insult. She struggled
violently when Brandt bent his head. Almost sick with fear, she had
determined to call for help, when a violent wrench almost toppled her
over. At the same instant her wrists were freed; she heard a fierce
cry, a resounding blow, and then the sodden thud of a heavy body
falling. Recovering her balance, she saw a tall figure beside her, and
a man in the act of rising from the ground.

"You?" whispered Helen, recognizing the tall figure as Jonathan's.

The borderman did not answer. He stepped forward, slipping his hand
inside his hunting frock. Brandt sprang nimbly to his feet, and with a
face which, even in the dim light, could be seen distorted with fury,
bent forward to look at the stranger. He, too, had his hand within his
coat, as if grasping a weapon; but he did not draw it.

"Zane, a lighter blow would have been easier to forget," he cried, his
voice clear and cutting. Then he turned to the girl. "Miss Helen, I
got what I deserved. I crave your forgiveness, and ask you to
understand a man who was once a gentleman. If I am one no longer, the
frontier is to blame. I was mad to treat you as I did."

Thus speaking, he bowed low with the grace of a man sometimes used to
the society of ladies, and then went out of the gate.

"Where did you come from?" asked Helen, looking up at Jonathan.

He pointed under the lilac bushes.

"Were you there?" she asked wonderingly. "Did you hear all?"