Albany."

There was a silence. Sheila was thoroughly awake again, and once more her
gaze went to the window, where unceasing streams trickled down the glass.
Whatever fear she had had of the owner of the cabin had long ago been
dispelled by his manner which, though puzzling, hinted of the gentleman.
She would have liked him better were it not for the reckless gleam in his
eyes; that gleam, it seemed to her, indicated a trait of character which
was not wholly admirable.

"What have you come out here for?"

Sheila smiled at the rain-spattered window, a flash of pleased vanity in
her eyes. His voice had been low, but in it she detected much curiosity,
even interest. It was not surprising, of course, that he should feel an
interest in her; other men had been interested in her too, only they had
not been men that lived in romantic wildernesses,--observe that she did
not make use of the term "unfeatured," which she had manufactured soon
after realizing that she was lost--nor had they carried big revolvers,
like this man, who seemed also to know very well how to use them.

Those other men who had been interested in her had had a way of looking at
her; there had always been a significant boldness in their eyes which
belied the gentleness of demeanor which, she had always been sure, merely
masked their real characters. She had never been able to look squarely at
any of those men, the men of her circle who had danced attendance upon her
at the social functions that had formerly filled her existence--without a
feeling of repugnance.

They had worn man-shapes, of course, but somehow they had seemed to lack
something real and vital; seemed to have possessed nothing of that
forceful, magnetic personality which was needed to arouse her sympathy and
interest. Not that the man on the floor in front of the door interested
her--she could not admit that! But she had felt a sympathy for him in his
loneliness, and she had looked into his eyes--had been able to look
steadily into them, and though she had seen expressions that had puzzled
her, she had at least seen nothing to cause her to feel any uneasiness.
She had seen manliness there, and indomitability, and force, and it had
seemed to her to be sufficient. His would be an ideal face were it not for
the expression that lingered about the lips, were it not for the reckless
glint in his eyes--a glint that revealed an untamed spirit.

His question remained unanswered. He stirred impatien