icking up the breakfast dishes, not at all perturbed by the
fact that she was offering him a privilege which had the effect of
quickening his pulse for a moment or two.

"Thank you," he said. "I don't mind telling you it is going to be
difficult for me to do that--because--well, this is a most unusual
situation, isn't it? In spite of all your kindness, including what was
probably your good-intentioned endeavor to put an end to my earthly
miseries behind the rock, I believe it is necessary for you to give me
some kind of explanation. Don't you?"

"Didn't Bateese explain to you last night?" she asked, facing him.

"He brought a message from you to the effect that I was a prisoner,
that I must make no attempt to escape, and that if I did try to escape,
you had given your men instructions to kill me."

She nodded, quite seriously. "That is right, M'sieu David."

His face flamed. "Then I am a prisoner? You threaten me with death?"

"I shall treat you very nicely if you make no attempt to escape, M'sieu
David. Isn't that fair?"

"Fair!" he cried, choking back an explosion that would have vented
itself on a man. "Don't you realize what has happened? Don't you know
that according to every law of God and man I should arrest you and give
you over to the Law? Is it possible that you don't comprehend my own
duty? What I must do?"

If he had noticed, he would have seen that there was no longer the
flush of color in her cheeks. But her eyes, looking straight at him,
were tranquil and unexcited. She nodded.

"That is why you must remain a prisoner, M'sieu David, It is because I
do realize, I shall not tell you why that happened behind the rock, and
if you ask me, I shall refuse to talk to you. If I let you go now, you
would probably have me arrested and put in jail. So I must keep you
until St. Pierre comes. I don't know what to do--except to keep you,
and not let you escape until then. What would you do?"

The question was so honest, so like a question that might have been
asked by a puzzled child, that his argument for the Law was struck
dead. He stared into the pale face, the beautiful, waiting eyes, saw
the pathetic intertwining of her slim fingers, and suddenly he was
grinning in that big, honest way which made people love Dave Carrigan.

"You're--doing--absolutely--right," he said.

A swift change came in her face. Her cheeks flushed. Her eyes filled
with a sudden glow that made the little violet-freckles in them da