he knew what his friends would say, and how he would be
treated as the husband of a half-breed Indian; for in his country one
drop of colored blood made a negro, and his people saw but little
difference between the red and the black. It would mean his social
ostracism; he would be shunned by his brother officers, and his career
would be at an end. He swore aloud in the darkness that this was too
great a price to pay for love, that he owed it to himself and to his
dear ones at home to give up this dark-eyed maid who had bewitched him.

He had wandered far during this debate, clear past the town, and out
through the Indian village; but now that he believed he had come to an
understanding with himself, he turned back towards his quarters. He
knew it would be hard to give her up; but he had irrevocably decided,
and his path began to unfold itself so clear and straight that he
marvelled how he could have failed to see it. He was glad he had
conquered, although the pain was still sharp. He felt a better man for
it, and, wrapped in this complacent optimism, he passed close by the
front of the trader's store, where Necia had crept to be alone with her
misery.

The high moon cast a deep, wide shadow upon the store steps where the
girl sat huddled, staring out into the unreal world, waiting for the
night wind to blow away the fears and forebodings that would not let
her sleep. It was late, and the hush of a summer midnight lay upon the
distant hills. Burrell had almost passed her when he was startled by
the sound of his name breathed softly; then, to his amazement, he saw
her come forth like a spirit into the silver sheen.

"Necia!" he cried, "what are you doing here at this hour?" She looked
up at him sadly; he saw that her cheeks were wet, and something inside
him snapped and broke. Without a word he took her in his arms, meeting
her lips in a long kiss, while she, trembling with the joy of his
strong embrace, drew closer and closer and rested her body wearily
against his.

"Little girl! little girl!" he whispered, over and over, his tone
conveying every shade of sympathy, love, and understanding she had
craved. He knew what had made her sad, and she knew that he knew. There
was no need for words; the anguish of this long day had whetted the
edge of their desire, and they were too deeply, too utterly lost in the
ecstasy of meeting to care for speech.

As she lay cradled in his arms, which alternately held her with the
so