f them now was the grave.

"Little girl! My little girl!" he murmured, caressing her shoulders.
Then he caught himself sharply, crushing the sentiment from his
voice.

"Hide yourself; change your name; do anything to keep from your uncle.
When you're old enough to handle your own affairs, you can come out of
your hiding-place--do you understand me?"

"I think I do," she said, tears gathering under her lids.

"I don't know of any one I could trust in this county. Jordan Morse
would get 'em all under his spell. That would be the last of you. For
your mother's sake----" His lips quivered, but he went on with a
masterful effort to choke down a sob,--"I may honestly say, for your
own sake, I want you to live and do well."

There was some strain in his passionate voice that stirred terrific
emotion in the girl, awakening new, tumultuous impulses. It gave her a
mad desire to do something, something for her father, something for
herself. At that moment she loved him very much indeed and was ready
to go to any length to help him. He had told her she must leave.
Perhaps----

Virginia glanced through the window into the darkness. Through the
falling snow she could see a giant pine throw out appealing arms. They
were like beckoning, sentient beings to the girl, who loved nature
with all the passionate strength of her young being. Yet to-night they
filled her with new wonder,--an awe she had never felt before. Despite
her onrushing thoughts, she tried to calm her mind, to say with eager
emphasis:

"Shall I run to-night--now?"

"No, not to-night; don't leave me yet. Sit down in the chair again;
stay until I tell you."

"All right," murmured Virginia, walking away.

The father watched the fire a few minutes.

"I'll give you a letter to Grandoken, Lafe Grandoken," he said
presently, looking up. "For your mother's sake he'll take you, and
some day you can repay him. You see it's this way: Your mother trusted
your uncle more than she did me, or she'd never have given you into
his care in case of my death. Well, he's got me, and he'll get you."

With no thought of disobedience, Virginia slipped from the chair to
her feet.

"He won't get me if I run now, will he?" she questioned breathlessly;
"not if I go to--what'd you say his name was?"

She was all excitement, ready to do whatever she was bidden. Slowly,
as she stood there, the tremendous suspense left her.

"Why couldn't we both go, you and me?" she entreated eagerl