value it. He was young; he was in her power; and she declined his
further help.

Christa had wandered down the grass to the river-side and stood there
pouting meanwhile.

CHAPTER VIII.

This incident with David Brown and the getting possession of his chart
was the one stimulant that helped Ann to endure this long day of
inactivity. It was like a small thimbleful of wine to one who longed for
a generous draught; there was nothing else to do but to wait, alert for
all chances that might help her. Evening closed in; the sisters were
left alone. Christa returned indolently to lounging upon the bed and
reading her novel. If Ann had had less strength, she would have paced
the floor of the outer room in impatience; as it was she sat still by
the table which held the beer and stitched her seam diligently. About
eight o'clock she heard Toyner's step.

Was he going to haunt the house again in order to keep her from going
out of it?

He came up to the door and came in.

She was preparing herself to act just as if she did not know who had
come, and did not take much notice of him; but when he came up and she
looked at his face in the lamp-light, she saw written in it the struggle
that he had gone through. Its exact nature and detail she was incapable
of conceiving, but one glance proved to her its reality. She was struck
by the consciousness of meeting an element in life which was wholly new
to her. When such a thing forces itself upon our attention, however
indefinite and unexpressed may be our thought, it is an experience never
to be forgotten. Ann fought against her conviction. She began at once,
as intelligent humanity always does, to explain away what she did not
understand, supposing by that means that she could do away with its
existence.

"I think you are ill, Bart," she said quickly. "It looks to me as if you
were in for a bout of chills; and enough to give it to you too, hanging
about in the woods all night."

He drew a chair close to the table and sat down beside her.

"There isn't any chills in the swamps about here," he said; "they are as
wholesome as dry land is." She saw by this that he had no intention of
upbraiding her with his fall, or of proclaiming the object of his visit.
She wanted to rouse him into telling her something.

"I heard them saying something about you to-day that I didn't believe a
bit. I heard you were in the saloon drinking."

He took hold of the end of her seam, passed hi