ripped his own bed and collected blankets from every
corner to make a comfortable resting-place for her. Before Stephen could
answer he was summoned to the door. Talbot looked in upon them, but
would not come inside.

"I've sent Will off," he said; "he swore like anything, but he is gone.
No, thanks, Steve, I won't come in. I'm tired, and going to my own cabin
now. See you at breakfast. Good-night," and before Katrine could thank
him he was gone.

The two thus left entirely alone in the deep quiet of the gulch to pass
the night together looked at each other for a moment with a shade of
silent embarrassment. But the girl, accustomed as she was to take care
of herself in all sorts of situations and surroundings, and endued with
a certain fierce chastity of nature, recovered herself instantly and
spoke quite naturally.

"I feel tired too, and would like to go to sleep now, if I may."

"Certainly," said Stephen. "You have this room to yourself. The stove
will burn till daylight, and you have the whisky if you feel cold in the
night. Good-night."

His tone was very formal, for he would so much have liked it to be
otherwise, and without looking at her he took a match from his pocket
and went into the other room, shutting the door after him. The girl
waited a moment, then she shut the door of the stove and threw herself
down on the soft pile of blankets, and drawing one of them over her to
her ears, drew a deep, contented sigh, and was peacefully asleep in a
few seconds.

The next morning Stephen rose stiff and cramped from his denuded bed.
When he was completely dressed he silently opened his door and crept
noiselessly into the adjoining room. The girl was not yet awake, and he
stole softly over to the bed on the hearth and looked down at her. She
lay warm and sleeping comfortably amongst the blankets. She was fully
dressed, just as she had been the previous evening, except that two or
three buttons were unfastened at the collar of her dress, and allowed
the solid white neck to show beneath the rounded chin. The little head,
with its mass of dark silky curls, lay inclined towards the stove, and
the curled rosy lips had a softer smile than they generally wore in the
daytime. Stephen leaned over her, entranced and breathless. As his eyes
followed the dark arch of the eyebrows, the sweet delicate contour of
the cheek, he forgot the horror he felt of her sometimes in her waking
moments, forgot the hideous background of the