Rina presented the mask-like face they had grown accustomed to, and maintained a dogged silence. The only sign of feeling she gave was a shadow-like pain drowned deep in her dark eyes. Natalie's own eyes filled at the sight of her stubbornness; in the days of her suffering she had grown very fond of her dark-skinned nurse; and it was she who had insisted throughout on the existence of Rina's better nature, and had never given up hope of reclaiming the worser part. And now it seemed, she must admit herself defeated.

Garth laid out the food he had allotted them; and packed it in a flour-bag convenient to carry. He also gave Rina an open letter he had written, setting forth their situation (without implicating Mabyn or Rina) and asking that food and an escort be sent. That it would ever fall into responsible hands was problematical; but it was a chance. He refrained from any suggestion that it should be concealed from Mabyn, but Rina of her own accord thrust it in her dress; and he argued well from the act.

Rina turned to go without a word; but Natalie called her softly. In her hand she was holding a round silver locket, in which she had put a tiny picture of herself. She held it out to Rina with a wistful smile.

"For you," she murmured. "Keep it because I love you."

Rina looked at the little picture, struggling to maintain her parade of unconcern. But suddenly she s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of Natalie's hand; and thrust it in her own bosom. Her face worked with the pain of those who weep with difficulty; her eyes filled and overflowed at last. With a wild, brusque abandon, she flung herself at Natalie's feet and pressed the hem of her dress to her trembling lips.

"You good! You good!" she sobbed. Then springing to her feet as abruptly as she had fallen, she flew away among the trees.

Half an hour later they heard the two horses pa.s.sing the trail behind their camp; the same trail by which they had all first entered the valley; and the way to Spirit River Crossing.

At first they dared not believe they could really be free of their enemy so easily; and they continually found themselves listening for the sound of their return. Garth saddled Cy at last; and rode along the trail to the top of the bench. He saw Mabyn and Rina two specks in the distance; and still travelling south. When he returned with the news to Natalie, they allowed themselves to rejoice at last; and they were filled with a great peace.

Going home! was the burden of their happy speech; home to the land of friendly faces, the urbane land, the place of comfortable little things, where life was lapped in ease, sane and well-ordered! How their ears ached for a human noise again! the bustle of crowded sidewalks, the clang of gongs, the fall of hoofs on asphalt! How their flesh yearned for the creature comforts! delicate feasting and good clothes to wear!

One must be plunged into the wilderness for a while to sense the gifts of civilization at their true value.

"I can understand now why men are so crazy to be explorers and things,"

said Natalie. "They go away just for the tremendous fun of coming back to it all! Oh-h! Think of dances--and even despised tea-parties now!

Think of theatres and restaurants and going to the races!"

"And wouldn't I like to take you straight through to New York, though!"

sang Garth. "Oh! Broadway and the Avenue in September! Everything getting under way again! And Coney Island is still going! Picture Luna Park dropped down on the island out there!"

They laughed at the incongruous picture.

"Where would we dine the first night?" asked Natalie.

"Martin's," said Garth. "Fancy us in the balcony looking down on the giddy crowd; and the orchestra sawing off the s.e.xtet from _Lucia_ for dear life!"

"Lobster a la Newburg and a _peche Melba_!" cried Natalie in an ecstasy.

"Not on your life!" said Garth. "Just like a girl's bill-of-fare.

Something sensible for yours when you go out with me! How about a filet _dernier cri_?"

"Don't know it," said Natalie. "Besides, I refuse to be sensible in my imagination," she added.

Garth described the delicacy. "And a cheese sauce on top all browned, with strips of red pepper laid criss-cross; and it comes steaming hot under a little gla.s.s cover!"

Natalie groaned. "Oh, talk about something else!" she said faintly.

"What will you wear?" asked Garth with a grin.

Natalie drew a long breath and plunged forthwith into elaborate, excited descriptions.

Their respite was very short--only to the middle of the following morning. They were still dwelling on the subject of home. Garth had carefully lifted Natalie into the saddle; and was leading the horse up and down the strip of gra.s.s to see how she bore it. Suddenly she bent her head, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Horses!" she said.

Garth sharply pulled up old Cy. "The Indian cayuses, perhaps," he said.

Natalie shook her head. "Heavier animals than that," she said. "And more like the steady trot of ridden horses!"

They listened with strained attention; and presently the pound of hoofs was clearly audible returning on the same trail through the woods of the lake sh.o.r.e. The approach of strangers is charged with a tremendous significance to those immured in a wilderness. They bated their breaths to hear better.

Garth scowled. "If they come back they can starve!" he said shortly.

"They'll not get another stiver's worth from our store!"

Natalie's ears were very sharp. "There are more than two!" she said suddenly. "Four--six--more than that!"

Garth's face cleared. "Friends, undoubtedly," he said. "Mabyn could never enlist anybody, not even breeds, against us!"

But this was only for Natalie's benefit. Even while he spoke another thought struck a chill to his heart. Lifting Natalie off the horse, he sent her into the house; and taking his gun, he struck back through the woods to the side of the trail, to reconnoitre. He dropped behind a clump of mooseberry bushes where he could see without being seen.

The cavalcade was close upon him. The first to ride past was Herbert Mabyn. His livid face was alight with triumph; and he carried a new Winchester slung over his back. An ill-favoured breed youth followed; his face struck a chord in Garth's memory; but so hard is it to distinguish alien faces that for the moment he could not place him. Next there came six packhorses, laden with food and camp outfit, and driven by the next rider, a breed woman, whose face happened to be turned from Garth as she pa.s.sed. He had an uncomfortable sense that he knew her too.

Rina followed, turning a sad and troubled face in the direction of their camp as she rode by.

This seemed to be all; and Garth was about to rise, when he heard still another rider approaching. He crouched back with a sure foreboding of who it was; hence there was little surprise in the actual sight of the faded check suit enwrapping the burly figure, the broad-rimmed "Stetson," and the ragged cigar ceaselessly twisted between fat lips. He looked older, that was all; and he bore marks of illness. Nick Grylls had found them out.

XX

SUCCOUR

Garth was thankful he was alone when it happened. The reaction after their day of joyous hopefulness was too sudden to be borne. Crouching behind the bush, he dropped his head in his arms. What could he hope for, single-handed against such overwhelming odds? For a while his heart failed him utterly, and all his faculties were scattered in clownish confusion. He knew not which way to turn. At last one thought shone through the murk of his brain like a star: Natalie must not be rudely frightened. He got up; and composing his face with a great effort of will, he hastened back to her.

But the riders having crossed the bed of the stream, and mounted the rise, Natalie already knew as much as he. Her first thought was likewise for him. She turned a solicitous face.

"My poor Garth!" she said. "More care and danger for you!"

The simple words acted on him like a strong tonic. His brow smoothed; his mouth hardened; and he was mightily ashamed for his moment of weakness.

"More fun!" he said with his dry, arrogant note of laughter. "Act four of the drama begins!"

Natalie caught his spirit and laughed back.

"Who was the half-breed, do you suppose?" he said. "Whitey-blue eyes, ugly scar!"

"Don't you remember?" she said quickly. "The stage to the Landing----"

"Xavier! Of course!" he cried.