s
hence? I grieve for this," with a glance at his foot, "because it keeps
me from being with you, from guarding you into perfect safety. Otherwise
it does not matter. You lose time, madam."

She stood with heaving bosom and foot tapping the ground, an expression
that he could not read in her wonderful eyes. "I am not going," she said
at last.

CHAPTER XXXV

THE BOAT THAT WAS NOT

"You will not go?" cried Landless.

"No, I will not!" she answered passionately. "Why should you think such
a thing of me? See! we have been together, you and I, for long weeks!
You have been my faithful guide, my faithful protector. Over and over
again you have saved my life. And now, now when you are the helpless
one, when it is through me that you lie there helpless, when it is
through me that you are in this dreadful forest at all, you tell me to
go! to leave you to the fate I have brought upon you! to save myself! I
will not save myself! But the other day it was dishonor in you to leave
me below the falls--almost in safety. Mine the dishonor if I do what you
bid me do!"

"Madam, madam, it is not with women as with men!"

"I care not for women! I care for myself. Never, never, will I leave,
helpless and wounded, the man who dies for me!"

"Upon my knees I implore you!" Landless cried in desperation. "You
cannot save me, you cannot help me. It is you that would make the
bitterness of my fate. Let me die believing that you have escaped these
fiends, and then, do what they will to me, I shall die happy, blessing
with my last breath the generous woman who lets me give--how proudly and
gladly she will never know--my worthless life in exchange for hers, so
young, bright, innocent. Go, go, before it is too late!"

He dragged himself a foot nearer, and grasping the hem of her dress,
pressed it to his lips. "Good-bye," he said with a faint smile. "Keep
behind the rocks for some distance, then follow the river. Think kindly
of me. Good-bye."

"It is too late," she said. "I can see the river through this crack
between the rocks. One of those two canoes has just passed, going down
the river. In it were seven Ricahecrians and the mulatto. I saw him
quite plainly, for they row close to the bank with their faces turned to
the woods. They will land at some point below this and search for our
trail. When they do not find it, they will know that we are between them
and the rest of the band, and they will come upon us from behind. If I
g