ttempt to kill his
assailant.

His thoughts, working in flashes of lightning, suggested every
possible trick of escape, and as rapidly rejected each. There was
nothing for it but to play the part, to take the blow with no more
than a quiver when it came. He had once seen a man shot in just that
way. Braced to such a determination, de Spain bent slowly downward,
and, with eyes staring into the water for a reflection that might
afford a glimpse of his enemy, he began to drink. A splash above his
head frightened him almost to death. It was a water ousel dashing into
the foaming cataract and out again, and the spray falling from the
sudden bath wrecked the mirror of the pool. De Spain nearly choked.
Each mouthful of water was a struggle. The sense of impending death
had robbed even the life-giving drafts of their tonic; each instant
carried its acute sensation of being the last. At length, his nerves
weakened by hunger and exposure, revolted under the strain. Suppose it
should be, after all, a fantasy of his fever that pictured so vividly
an enemy behind. With an effort that cost more mental torture than he
ever had known, he drew back on his elbow from the pool, steadied
himself, turned his head to face his executioner, and confronted Nan
Morgan.

CHAPTER XIII

PARLEY

She stood beside the rock from which the ledge was reached from below,
and as if she had just stepped up into sight. Her rifle was so held in
both hands that it could be fired from her hip, and at such close
quarters with deadly accuracy. As she stood with startled eyes fixed
on his haggard face, her slender neck and poised head were very
familiar to de Spain.

And her expression, while it reflected her horrified alarm, did
not conceal her anger and aversion at the sight of him. Unaware of
the forbidding spectacle he presented, de Spain, swept by a
brainstorm at the appearance of this Morgan--the only one of all the
Morgans he had not fancied covering him and waiting to deliver his
death-warrant--felt a fury sweep over him at the thought of being
shot by a woman. The wild idea that she meant to kill him, which in a
rational moment would never have entered his mind, now in his
delirium completely obsessed him. Working, as it were, mechanically,
even the instinct of self-defense asserted itself against her. But
enough of reason remained in his disordered senses to tell him that
self-defense was out of the question. Whatever she meant to do, he