of the Canada jay might ever find them. Then she hastened
up the ridge to meet Ben on his way to the cave.

She waited a few minutes, then spying his stalwart form at the edge of
the beaver meadow, she tripped down to meet him. He was not in the least
suspicious of this little act of friendship. It was quite the customary
thing, lately, for her thus to watch for his coming; and his brown face
always lighted with pleasure at the first glimpse of her graceful form
framed by the spruce. She too had always taken pleasure in these little
meetings and in the gay talk they had as they sped down toward the
cavern; but her delight was singularly absent to-day. She tried to
restrain the wild racing of her heart.

She knew she must act her part. Her plan was to put him off his guard,
to hide her treachery with pretended friendship. To meet him here--far
distant from the poison cup hidden in the vines--would give her time to
master her leaping heart and to strengthen her self-control.

Yet she had hardly expected him to greet her in just this way,--with
such a light in his eyes and such obvious delight in his smile. He had a
rather boyish, friendly smile, this foe of hers whom she was about to
despatch into the very shadow of death. She dispelled quickly a small,
faltering voice of remorse. This was no time for remorse, for gentleness
and mercy. She hurried to his side.

"You're flushed from hurrying down that hill," he told her gayly.
"Beatrice, you're getting prettier every day."

"It's the simple life that's doing it, Ben! No late hours, no
indigestible food--"

"Speaking of food--I'm famished. I hope you've got something nice for
lunch--and I know you have."

She _had_ been careful with to-day's lunch; but it had merely been part
of her plot to put him off his guard. "Caribou tenderloin--almost the
last of him--wocus bread and strawberries," she assured him. "Does that
suit your highness?"

He made a great feint of being overwhelmed by the news. "Then let's
hurry. Take my arm and we'll fly."

She seized the strong forearm, thrilled in spite of herself by the
muscles of steel she felt through the sleeves. He fell into his fastest
walking stride,--long steps that sped the yards under them. They emerged
from the marsh and started to climb the ridge.

At a small hollow beside the creek bed her fingers suddenly tightened on
his arm. A thrill that was more of wonder than of joy coursed through
her; and her dark eyes bega