seized him by the shoulders from behind,
shielding him from the woods, and hurried him, half expostulating,
half struggling, to the house.

But there no gun was to be found. It was strange; it must have been
mislaid in some corner! Was he sure he had not left it in the barn?
But no matter now. The danger was over; the Larrabee trick had failed;
he must go to bed now, and in the morning they would make a search
together. At the same time she had inwardly resolved to rise before
him and make another search of the wood, and perhaps--fearful joy as
she recalled her promise!--find Jack alive and well, awaiting her!

ANOTHER ESCAPE

[Illustration]

IV

Salomy Jane slept little that night, nor did her father. But towards
morning he fell into a tired man's slumber until the sun was well up
the horizon. Far different was it with his daughter: she lay with her
face to the window, her head half lifted to catch every sound, from
the creaking of the sun-warped shingles above her head to the far-off
moan of the rising wind in the pine trees. Sometimes she fell into
a breathless, half-ecstatic trance, living over every moment of the
stolen interview; feeling the fugitive's arm still around her, his
kisses on her lips; hearing his whispered voice in her ears--the birth
of her new life! This was followed again by a period of agonizing
dread--that he might even then be lying, his life ebbing away, in the
woods, with her name on his lips, and she resting here inactive, until
she half started from her bed to go to his succor. And this went on
until a pale opal glow came into the sky, followed by a still paler
pink on the summit of the white Sierras, when she rose and hurriedly
began to dress. Still so sanguine was her hope of meeting him, that
she lingered yet a moment to select the brown holland skirt and yellow
sunbonnet she had worn when she first saw him. And she had only seen
him twice! Only _twice_! It would be cruel, too cruel, not to see him
again!

She crept softly down the stairs, listening to the long-drawn
breathing of her father in his bedroom, and then, by the light of a
guttering candle, scrawled a note to him, begging him not to trust
himself out of the house until she returned from her search, and
leaving the note open on the table, swiftly ran out into the growing
day.

Three hours afterwards Mr. Madison Clay awoke to the sound of loud
knocking. At first this forced itself upon his consciousness a