d on her nervous shoulder.

"I ruther guess we won't have no sech doin's again," said Alvin Mead,
with sulky assent.

"You must go, Madelon."

Madelon tied on her hood. Her white face had its rigid, desperate
look again.

"I will make them believe me yet, and you shall be set free," she
said to Burr, with a stern nod, and passed out, while Alvin Mead
stood back to give her passage, watching her with sullen and wary
eyes. He was, in truth, half afraid of her.

Chapter VI

When Madelon, returning from New Salem, came in sight of her home the
first thing which she noticed was her father in the yard in front of
the house.

David Hautville's great figure stood out in the dusk of the snowy
landscape like a giant's. He was motionless. The roan mare's gallop
had evidently struck his ear some time before, and he knew that
Madelon was returning. He did not even look her way as she drew
nearer, but when she rode into the yard he made a swift movement
forward and seized the mare by the bridle. She reared, but Madelon
sat firm, with wretched, undaunted eyes upon her father. David
Hautville's eyes blazed back at her out of the whiteness of his
wrath.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, in a thick voice.

"To New Salem."

"What for?"

"To see Burr, and beg him to confess that I killed Lot."

"You didn't."

"I did."

"Fool!" David Hautville jerked the bridle so fiercely that the mare
reared far back again. He jerked her down to her feet, and she made a
vicious lunge at him, but he shunted her away.

"I'll fasten you into your chamber," he shouted, "if this work goes
on! I'll stop your making a fool of yourself."

"It is Lot Gordon that is making fools of you all," said Madelon, in
a hard, quiet voice.

"Did Burr Gordon say he didn't stab him?" cried her father.

"No; he wouldn't own it. He is trying to shield me."

"He did it himself, and he'll hang for it."

"No, he won't hang for what I did while I draw the breath of life.
I've got the strength of ten in me. You don't know me, if I am your
daughter." Madelon freed her bridle with a quick movement, and the
mare flew forward into the barn.

David Hautville stood looking after her in utter fury and
bewilderment. Her last words rang in his ears and seemed true to him.
He felt as if he did not know his own daughter. This awakening and
lashing into action, by the terrible pressure of circumstances, of
strange ancestral traits which he had himself t