the sage. It's not--not that I--fear."

"Well, what is it, then?"

"Why--why--why should you come back at all?"

"I couldn't leave you here alone."

"You might change your mind when you get to the village--among old
friends--"

"I won't change my mind. As for old friends--" He uttered a short,
expressive laugh.

"Then--there--there must be a--a woman!" Dark red mantled the clear tan
of temple and cheek and neck. Her eyes were eyes of shame, upheld a long
moment by intense, straining search for the verification of her fear.
Suddenly they drooped, her head fell to her knees, her hands flew to her
hot cheeks.

"Bess--look here," said Venters, with a sharpness due to the violence
with which he checked his quick, surging emotion.

As if compelled against her will--answering to an irresistible
voice--Bess raised her head, looked at him with sad, dark eyes, and
tried to whisper with tremulous lips.

"There's no woman," went on Venters, deliberately holding her glance
with his. "Nothing on earth, barring the chances of life, can keep me
away."

Her face flashed and flushed with the glow of a leaping joy; but like
the vanishing of a gleam it disappeared to leave her as he had never
beheld her.

"I am nothing--I am lost--I am nameless!"

"Do you want me to come back?" he asked, with sudden stern coldness.
"Maybe you want to go back to Oldring!"

That brought her erect, trembling and ashy pale, with dark, proud eyes
and mute lips refuting his insinuation.

"Bess, I beg your pardon. I shouldn't have said that. But you angered
me. I intend to work--to make a home for you here--to be a--a brother
to you as long as ever you need me. And you must forget what you
are--were--I mean, and be happy. When you remember that old life you are
bitter, and it hurts me."

"I was happy--I shall be very happy. Oh, you're so good that--that it
kills me! If I think, I can't believe it. I grow sick with wondering
why. I'm only a let me say it--only a lost, nameless--girl of the
rustlers. Oldring's Girl, they called me. That you should save me--be so
good and kind--want to make me happy--why, it's beyond belief. No wonder
I'm wretched at the thought of your leaving me. But I'll be wretched
and bitter no more. I promise you. If only I could repay you even a
little--"

"You've repaid me a hundredfold. Will you believe me?"

"Believe you! I couldn't do else."

"Then listen!... Saving you, I saved myself. Living here in this valley