did not reply. After a moment she looked up in surprise. His
brows were knit in reflection. He turned to her again, his eyes
glowing into hers. Once more the fascination of the man grew big,
overwhelmed her. She felt her heart flutter, her consciousness
swim, her old terror returning.

"Listen," said he. "I may come to you to-morrow and ask you to
choose between your divine pity and what you might think to be your
duty. Then I will tell you all there is to know of _la Longue
Traverse_. Now it is a secret of the Company. You are a Factor's
daughter; you know what that means." He dropped his head. "Ah, I
am tired--tired with it all!" he cried, in a voice strangely
unhappy. "But yesterday I played the game with all my old spirit;
to-day the zest is gone! I no longer care." He felt the pressure
of her hand. "Are you just a little sorry for me?" he asked.
"Sorry for a weakness you do not understand? You must think me a
fool."

"I know you are unhappy," replied Virginia, gently. "I am truly
sorry for that."

"Are you? Are you, indeed?" he cried. "Unhappiness is worth such
pity as yours." He brooded for a moment, then threw his hands out
with what might have been a gesture of desperate indifference.
Suddenly his mood changed in the whimsical, bewildering fashion of
the man. "Ah, a star shoots!" he exclaimed, gayly. "That means a
kiss!"

Still laughing, he attempted to draw her to him. Angry, mortified,
outraged, she fought herself free and leaped to her feet.

"Oh!" she cried, in insulted anger.

"Oh!" she cried, in a red shame.

"_Oh!_" she cried, in sorrow.

Her calm broke. She burst into the violent sobbing of a child, and
turned and ran hurriedly to the factory.

Ned Trent stared after her a minute from beneath scowling brows.
He stamped his moccasined foot impatiently.

"Like a rat in a trap!" he jeered at himself. "Like a rat in a
trap, Ned Trent! The fates are drawing around you close. You need
just one little thing, and you cannot get it. Bribery is useless!
Force is useless! Craft is useless! This afternoon I thought I
saw another way. What I could get no other way I might get from
this little girl. She is only a child. I believe I could touch
her pity--ah, Ned Trent, Ned Trent, can you ever forget her
frightened, white face begging you to be kind?" He paced back and
forth between the two bronze guns with long, straight strides, like
a panther in a cage. "Her aid is min