"Nonsense!" said he. "This is a case of necessity. You are to be taken
care of, and I am the one to do it."

"But it is not the custom among people where you live, is it?"

The clear eyes faced him down, and he had to admit that it was not.

"Then I can't go," she said decidedly.

"But you must. If you don't, I won't go."

"But you must," said the girl, "and I mustn't. If you talk that way, I'll
run away from you. I've run away from one man, and I guess I can from
another. Besides, you're forgetting the lady."

"What lady?"

"Your lady. The lady who rides in a carriage without horses."

"Hang the lady!" he said inelegantly. "Do you know that the train will be
along here in less than an hour, and we have a great deal to do before we
can get on board? There's no use stopping to talk about this matter. We
haven't time. If you will just trust things to me, I'll attend to them
all, and I'll answer your questions when we get safely on the train. Every
instant is precious. Those men might come around that corner ever there
any minute. That's all bosh about respect. I respect you more than any
woman I ever met. And it's my business to take care of you."

"No, it's not your business," said the girl bravely, "and I can't let you.
I'm nothing to you, you know."

"You're every--that is--why, you surely know you're a great deal to me.
Why, you saved my life, you know!"

"Yes, and you saved mine. That was beautiful, but that's all."

"Isn't that enough? What are you made of, anyway, to sit there when
there's so much to be done, and those villains on our track, and insist
that you won't be saved?' Respect you! Why, a lion in the wilderness would
have to respect you. You're made of iron and steel and precious stones.
You've the courage of a--a--I was going to say a man but I mean an angel.
You're pure as snow, and true as the heavenly blue, and firm as a rock;
and, if I had never respected you before, I would have to now. I respect,
I honor, I--I--I--pray for you!" he finished fiercely.

He turned his back to hide his emotion.

She lifted her eyes to his when he turned again, and her own were full of
tears.

"Thank you!" She said it very simply. "That makes me--very--glad! But I
cannot go with you."

"Do you mean that?" he asked her desperately.

"Yes," steadily.

"Then I shall have to stay too."

"But you can't! You must go to your mother. I won't be stayed with. And
what would she think? Mothers are--everything