p him from the island if I
can," he said, looking deep into them, "and as there is a God in Heaven
I swear that you--"

"What?" she urged, as he hesitated.

"That you shall not marry Strang!" he finished.

A cry welled up in the girl's throat. Was it of gladness? Was it of
hope? She sprang back a pace from Nathaniel and with clenched hands
waited breathlessly, as if she expected him to say more.

"No--no--you can not save me from Strang! Now--you must go!"

She retreated slowly in the direction of the path. In an instant
Nathaniel was at her side.

"I am going to see you safely back in St. James," he declared. "Then I
will go to your brother."

She barred his way defiantly.

"You can not go!"

"Why?"

"Because--" He caught the frightened flutter of her voice again.
"Because--they will kill you!"

The low laugh that he breathed in her hair was more of joy than fear.

"I am glad you care--Marion." He spoke her name with faltering
tenderness, and led her out into the path.

"You must go," she still persisted.

"With you--yes," he answered.

She surrendered to the determination in his voice and they moved slowly
along the path, listening for any sound that might come from ahead of
them. Nathaniel had already formed his plan of action. From Marion's
words and the voice in which she had uttered them he knew that it would
be useless for him as it had been for Neil to urge her to flee from the
island. There remained but one thing for him to do, so he fell back upon
the scheme which he had proposed to Marion's brother. He realized now
that he might be compelled to play the game single-handed unless he
could secure assistance from Obadiah. His ship and men were in the hands
of the Mormons; Neil, in his search for the captured vessel, stood a
large chance, of missing him that night, and in that event Marion's fate
would depend on him alone. If he could locate a small boat on the beach
back of Obadiah's; if he could in some way lure Marion to it--He gave an
involuntary shudder at the thought of using force upon the girl at his
side, at the thought of her terror of those first few moments, her
struggles, her broken confidence. She believed in him now. She believed
that he loved her. She trusted him. The warm soft pressure of her hand
as it clung to his arm in the blackening gloom of the forest was
evidence of that trust. She looked into his face anxiously, inquiringly
when they stopped to listen, like a child who