side, and footsteps receding.

A moment later, the whispering voices were heard again, and steps
approaching. Then something heavy was flung against the door with a
crash.

"There! Sleep well, my dears!" cried a scornful voice outside. A
chorus of laughter followed, the footsteps died away, and all was
still.

The young man rose to his feet. "The brutes!" he muttered, trembling
with anger. He sprang to the door, lifted the latch, and threw his
weight against it. The door did not move. His blood boiled, and again
he flung himself against the door. It creaked under the shock, but the
bar outside held fast.

"I heard who it was, anyhow," he said significantly. "I'll have a word
to say to some of them to-morrow."

"Oh," cried the girl, "now everyone will know--and we can't even get
out now."

"Don't be afraid, dear. If one way's barred, I'll soon find another."

He walked to the window, and pressed hard against the frame. The nails
gave way, and the woodwork hung loose.

"There! We can get out that way now. I'll take care of the
flowers--and I'll see those fellows hold their tongues--never fear."

Self-possessed and smiling, he came back to the bedside. "You poor
little thing, so easily scared! Not afraid now, are you?"

"No--not now you're here again."

"Why," said he gaily, "don't you see? It had to come like this--or
else--it would have been just like--any of the others!"

They both laughed, and the girl looked up at him through her tears. A
faint light of dawn showed through from without.

"And you haven't heard it all yet. I'll tell you--it's all different
from anything else--right from the beginning. I came here a way you'd
never dream--by way of the river, and past the jaws of death."

"What--what do you mean?"

And he told her what had passed among the rapids that night, when the
floating timber jammed against the Whirlstone Rock.

"And then we get locked in here, to make it unlike anything else all
through. And that's how I love you, Pansy--so that I have to come
to you through the rapids at night, and stay with you behind barred
doors. But _are_ you mine, my own? You haven't said so yet."

"Am I? Oh, Olof, how can you ask!" And she twined her arms lovingly
round his neck.

* * * * *

The growing flush of dawn stole through the curtains, spreading a
faint gleam of rose on the girl's white arms.

"Red--red is all that is beautiful in the world," nodded the fuc