e was seeking by service to absolve
herself in the estimation of a poor chap whose love for her had made him
forget his duty.

There was no talk between the girl and her charioteer. She had plenty of
thought to occupy her, and he drove on with his gaze straight between
the ears of the nigh horse.

The road was crooked; when she glanced behind, the woods seemed to be
shutting doors on her, closing out the world with which she had been
familiar; and ahead, as the road turned, she was looking into vistas
which led to the unknown--to a duty of tremendous import--to a task
which seemed too great for a girl to accomplish. One knowledge comforted
her--it was a knowledge which came from her childhood memories--she
could trust those rough men of the woods to treat a girl with respect if
she deserved it; but would she be able to convince them that the girl
who wrought such mischief to Ward Latisan deserved respect? They might,
as her grandfather said, ridicule a man who had been fooled by a girl,
if that man appeared to them and tried to make good his authority; but
there would be no laugh in the north country behind Latisan's back, now
that he had fled desperately from the wreck of his prospects.

She perceived only silent rebuke, even resentment, in Dick's countenance
when she stole glances at the hard profile above the old man's knitted
scarf. It was plain that he did not relish his job. She wondered whether
he believed that her errand was useless. When, after a time, she tried
to draw some opinion out of him he gave her no replies that aided her.

She felt acutely that she needed sympathy--something for her
encouragement. The old man's taciturnity hinted that he could be trusted
with a secret so far as outsiders were concerned; as to Flagg, she was
not sure of Dick's reliability in keeping anything away from a master to
whom he was devoted. But if the old man were kept away from Adonia----

"Do I understand that you're to stay north until I'm ready to go back?"

"I've got to. It's orders."

She was choking with the desire to tell him who she was. The lie which
she had told him in the tavern was a rankling memory--he had been such a
pitiful figure that day.

Again she looked behind. There were many miles between her and Adonia,
and the doors of the woods kept closing.

"I need all your help in this thing. I must have a faithful friend. It
is the one great effort of my life. You can understand so well! I--I
_am_ Lida