watched him, waiting for some change. It did not come.
Finally his lips moved.

"You?" he muttered, questioningly.

"I," she repeated.

Another silence fell.

"Why?" he asked at last.

"Because it was an unjust thing. Because we could not think of taking
a life in that way, without some reason for it."

"Why?" he persisted, taking no account of her reply.

Virginia let her gaze slowly rest on the Free Trader, and her eyes
filled with a world of tenderness and trust.

"Because I love him," said she, softly.

_Chapter Sixteen_

After an instant Galen Albret turned slowly his massive head and
looked at her. He made no other movement, yet she staggered back as
though she had received a violent blow on the chest.

"Father!" she gasped.

Still slowly, gropingly, he arose to his feet, holding tight to the
edge of the table. Behind him unheeded the rough-built arm-chair
crashed to the floor. He stood there upright and motionless, looking
straight before him, his face formidable. At first his speech was
disjointed. The words came in widely punctuated gasps. Then, as the
wave of his emotion rolled back from the poise into which the first
shock of anger had thrown it, it escaped through his lips in a
constantly increasing stream of bitter words.

"You--you love him," he cried. "You--my daughter! You have been--a
traitor--to me! You have dared--dared--deny that which my whole life
has affirmed! My own flesh and blood--when I thought the nearest
_metis_ of them all more loyal! You love this man--this man who has
insulted me, mocked me! You have taken his part against me! You have
deliberately placed yourself in the class of those I would hang for
such an offence! If you were not my daughter I would hang you. Hang my
own child!" Suddenly his rage flared. "You little fool! Do you dare
set your judgment against mine? Do you dare interfere where I think
well? Do you dare deny my will? By the eternal, I'll show you, old as
you are, that you have still a father! Get to your room! Out of my
sight!" He took two steps forward, and so his eye fell on Ned Trent.
He uttered a scream of rage, and reached for the pistol. Fortunately
the abruptness of his movement when he arose had knocked it to the
floor, so now in the blindness of a red anger he could not see it. He
shrieked out an epithet and jumped forward, his arm drawn to strike.
Ned Trent leaped back into an attitude of defence.

All three of those present had ma