"

"Couldn't we start down the lake in the canoe?" she said. "And make our
way from some point below? We could cover our tracks that way, and gain
much time. You have a rough map and a compass."

"They would discover in the morning that the canoe was gone," he said.

"They might not miss it for a day or two."

"They have the smoke of our fire to go by, too."

"They're careless. We might get a good start."

"Dearest, even if we had many days' start, they know we must make for
the Settlement. How easy it would be to head us off!"

"But it _might_ succeed," was all she could say.

"It's seventy-five miles," he said sadly. "You're not strong yet. How
could you walk it, without food to support you on the way?"

"You have your gun," she said faintly.

"There's no hunting on the open prairie for a man on foot!"

Natalie dropped her head back on his shoulder; and said no more.

Garth's face grew grimmer and grimmer in the firelight. "Do not lose
heart, dear," he said at last, in a gentle voice that was strangely at
variance with his eyes. "Matters will take a turn to-morrow; I promise
you that."

"What are you going to do?" she asked anxiously.

"I'm thinking it out," he said, evasively. "I'll tell you when it's
pieced together."

She was too weary to question him further.

In the darkness of his own room, he faced the thing. There was to be no
sleep for him this night. The alternative had been there from the first;
but hitherto he had averted his eyes from it, hoping against hope. Now
it could be put off no longer. It was Natalie's life against theirs; and
throughout the hours of the night, he steeled his heart to launch five
souls to eternity--two of them the souls of women. Rina he knew would be
transformed into a tigress by the death of Mabyn; so even Rina, whom
Natalie loved, must go too. He found himself dwelling with horror on the
harmony of her beauty, the deep fire of her eyes, the soft play of
colour in her cheeks--which he was to mar!

Supposing he succeeded, the dreadful consequences were painfully clear
to him; the hideous noise it would make in the world when they got out;
the ugly look it would have, with no one to bear out his story but
Natalie, and her lawful husband among the dead! Grylls's lying letter
had shown him how easy it would be to paint that side of the story in
the colours of justice. For himself, Garth cared nothing; but the
thought of Natalie, the sport of a world of malicious