and surely in her own sphere, taking the lead
in such subtle matters with the capability and mastery which
characterised Marcos' lead in affairs of action. But Marcos' mistake
seemed to have put out her prearranged scheme.

She slowly tore the letter into pieces and threw it on the fire.

"Do you know why I came back?" she asked, which question can hardly have
formed part of the plan of action.

"No."

"Because you never pretended that you cared. If you had pretended that
you cared for me, I should never have forgiven you."

Marcos did not answer. He looked up slowly, expecting perhaps to find her
looking elsewhere. But her eyes met his and she shrank back with an
involuntary movement that seemed to be of fear. Her face flushed all over
and then the colour faded from it, leaving her white and motionless as
she sat staring into the flickering wood-fire.

Presently she rose and walked to the edge of the plateau upon which the
hut was built. She stood there looking across to the mountains.

Marcos busied himself with the simple possessions of his host, setting
them in order where he had found them and treading out the smouldering
embers of the fire. Juanita turned and watched him over her shoulder with
a mystic persistency. Beneath her lashes lurked a smile--triumphant and
tender.

CHAPTER XXVIII

LE GANT DE VELOURS
They accomplished the rest of the journey without accident. The old
spirit of adventure which had led them to these mountains while they were
yet children seemed to awaken again, and they were as comrades. But
Juanita was absent-minded. She was not climbing skilfully. At one place
far above trees or other vegetation she made a false step and sent a
great rock rolling down the slope.

"You must be careful," said Marcos, almost sharply. "You are not thinking
what you are doing."

And Juanita suffered the reproof with an unwonted meekness. She was more
careful while they passed over a dangerous slope where the snow had
softened in the morning sun, and came to the topmost valley--an oval
basin of rocks and snow with no visible outlet. Immediately below them,
at the foot of a slope, which looked quite feasible, lay huddled the body
of a man.

"It is a Carlist," explained Marcos. "We heard some time ago that they
had been trying to find another way over to Torre Garda. That valley is a
trap. That is not the way to Torre Garda at all; and that slope is solid
ice. See, his knife lies beside him.