is long hair was light, and that his eyes were gray, with sandy
brows over them which stood on end at the points nearest his nose,
from a habit of bending them in concentration, she supposed, as he had
been doing but a moment before he smiled.

"No, it isn't a church subscription, Miss Landcraft, it's for a
cemetery," said he.

"Oh," said she again, wondering why she did not go back to Major King,
whose horse appeared restive, and in need of the spur, which the major
gave him unfeelingly.

At the same time she noted that Alan Macdonald's forehead was broad
and deep, for his leather-weighted hat was pushed back from it where
his fair, straight hair lay thick, and that his bony chin had a little
croft in it, and that his face was long, and hollowed like a
student's, and that youth was in his eyes in spite of the experience
which hardships of unknown kind had written across his face. Not a
handsome man, but a strong one in his way, whatever that way might
be.

"I am indebted to you for this," said he, drawing forth his watch with
a quick movement as he spoke, opening the back cover, folding the
little paper carefully away in it, "and grateful beyond words."

"Good-bye, Mr. Macdonald," said she, wheeling her horse suddenly,
smiling back at him as she rode away to Major King.

Alan Macdonald sat with his hat off until she was again at the major's
side, when he replaced it over his fair hair with slow hand, as if he
had come from some holy presence. As for Frances, her turn of defiance
had driven her clouds away. She met the major smiling and radiant, a
twinkling of mischief in her lively eyes.

The major was a diplomat, as all good soldiers, and some very
indifferent ones, are. Whatever his dignity and gentler feelings had
suffered while she was away, he covered the hurt now with a smile.

"And how fares the bandit king this morning?" he inquired.

"He seems to be in spirits," she replied.

The others were out of sight around the buildings where the carcasses
of beef had been prepared. Nobody but the major knew of Frances'
little dash out of the conventional, and the knowledge that it was so
was comfortable in his breast.

"And the pe-apers," said he, in melodramatic whisper, "were they the
thieves' muster roll?"

"He isn't a thief," said she, with quiet dignity, "he's a gentleman.
Yes, the paper _was_ important."

"Ha! the plot deepens!" said Major King.

"It was a matter of life and death," said she, with