f thanks. The woman was not Ygerne, thank
God!

"Go away!" She panted the words at him, venom in her glance. Then
abruptly she turned her face from him.

A swift revulsion of feeling swept through him. Just now he had
thanked God that this was not Ygerne; just now he had been so glad in
his relief that there was no room for pity in his gladness. Now, as
involuntarily his old joy surged back upon him, he felt a quick sting
of shame. He had no right to be so utterly happy when there was
suffering and sorrow such as this. As he had not yet fully understood,
now did he grasp in a second that change which had come about within
himself. There was tenderness in his eyes, there were pity and
sympathy as he stooped still lower.

"Ernestine," he said softly. "What is it, Ernestine? I want to help
you if I can. What is the matter, Ernestine?"

Her body, stilled while he spoke, writhed again passionately.

"Go away!" she panted out at him as she had done before, save that now
she did not turn her face to look at him. "Of all men, Dave Drennen, I
hate you most. Good God, how I hate you! Go away!"

There came a sob into her voice, a shudder shaking the prone body.
Drennen, knowing little of the ways of women, wanting only to help her,
uncertain and hesitant, knelt motionless, staring at her with troubled
eyes. Over and over the questions pricked his brain: "What was she
doing out here alone at this time of night? What had happened to her?"

He thought for a moment of springing to his feet, of hastening down the
two miles of trail to the Settlement, of rushing aid to the stricken
woman. Then another thought: "She may die while I am gone! It will
take an hour to get help to her."

"Ernestine," he said again, gently, laying his hand upon her shaking
shoulder. "I know you don't like me. But at times like this that
doesn't matter. Tell me what has happened . . . let me help you. I
want to help you if I can, Ernestine."

He was sincere in that; he wanted to help her. It didn't matter who it
was suffering; he wanted to see no more suffering in his world. He
wanted every one to be as happy as he was going to be. There was a new
yearning upon him, that yearning which is the true first born of a
man's love, a yearning to do some little good in the world that he may
have this to think upon and not just the bad which he has done.

She lay very still, making him no answer. He could not guess if she
were suffe