hs rising in her, and was
sick at heart to see her hand--the hand she should have laid in
his--clutching her throat to still its agony.

"I dunno," she said brokenly. "Yes, I s'pose I do know. I've got to do
it. It's been pushin' me an' pushin' me, an' now I've got to give up
beat. You won't save yourself, an' somehow or another you've got to be
saved."

Raven felt the incredible joy of his triumph. He had yielded to her
obstinacy, he had actually given up hope, and now, scourged by her
devotion to him, she was walking straight into the security he had urged
upon her. Yet he dared not betray his triumph, lest outspoken emotion of
any sort should awaken her to a fear of--what? Of him? Of man's nature
she had learned to abhor?

"That's right, Tira," he said quietly. "Now you've given up
responsibility. You've put yourself and the boy in my hands, mine and
Nan's. You've promised, remember. There's no going back."

Still he held out his hand, and though she ignored it, her dumbly
agonized look was aware of it. It was waiting for her, the
authoritative, kind hand, and she took hers from her throat and laid it
in his grasp. Tira seemed to herself to be giving up something she had
been fighting to keep. What was she giving up? Nothing it was right to
keep, she would have said. For at that minute, as it had been in all the
minutes that led to it, she believed in him as she did in her Lord,
Jesus Christ. Yet she was aware, with that emotional certainty which is
more piercing than the keenness of the most brilliant mind, that she had
surrendered, the inner heart of her, and whatever he asked her to do
would now be humbly done.

In the instant of their standing there, hand clasped in hand, the
current of life between them rushed to mingle--humble adoration in her,
a triumphant certainty in him. But scarcely had the impetuous forces met
before they were dissolved and lost. The sharp crack of a gun broke the
stillness outside, and Tira tore her hand from his and screamed
piercingly. She threw herself upon Raven, holding him with both hands.

"Hear that!" she whispered. "It's right outside here. He's shot to make
you come out an' see what 'tis. In the name o' God, don't you open the
door."

Raven shook himself free from her, and then, because she was sobbing
wildly, took her by the shoulders and pushed her into the chair by the
hearth.

"Stop that," he said sternly. "Stay there till I come back."

He took the key from the