eaten down to the ground
that her soul cried in agony for relief? According to her she had
seized upon the only resource open to her, in which there was but a
dim outlook towards safety. Then she had found herself the victim of a
hellish jest, apparently, or of a conspiracy so base that one sickened
at the mere thought of it. There was no doubt that those big eyes of
the suffering woman haunted the man, while the accents of her despair
still rang in his ears and distressed him. The expression of the
crucified had been on that pale face of hers, which had reddened so
deeply when a sense of shame had overwhelmed her. It was as if he had
beheld a drowning woman and been utterly prevented from extending a
saving hand to her. More strongly he began to feel that some one had
surely sinned against that woman, and feelings of vengefulness, none
the less bitter for all their vagueness, began to obsess him.

Once, on his way back from Papineau's, Maigan had pressed close to
him, as if for safety. From the great hardwood ridges of his right he
had heard a long and familiar sound. It was the one the Frenchwoman
had mentioned, the fitful baying of wolves on the track of a deer.
Picturing to himself the overtaking and pulling down of the victim, he
shivered, hardened though he was to the unending tragedies of the
wilderness, and hurried along faster, although he knew he stood in no
danger.

When he had reached his shack by the Roaring River he had entered it
and lighted the small lamp. It chanced to be the last match in his
pocket that he used for the purpose. There was no need to open the big
package that stood on a shelf, since he remembered having left two or
three small boxes in his hunting bag. He went over to the corner where
he had left it and bent over, somewhat painfully. As he lifted it from
the floor he saw an envelope and picked it up. It was addressed to
him. Tearing it open he stared at the words "Starting this evening.
Please have some one meet me. Madge Nelson."

With clenched fist he struck the table a blow that startled Maigan,
who barked, leaping up to his feet.

"It's all right, boy," said his master. "Men are pretty big fools,
excepting when they're nothing but infernal cowards. I tell you, boy,
some one will have to pay heavily for this. Good Lord! Who would have
thought of such a thing? I--I think I must be getting crazy! But
no--she's over there at Papineau's, and some one wrote to her, and
everything she