267.]

The girl drew back a pace. "I can't turn against my own people--but yours
have turned on you. That makes it easier. If you will take me, dear, we
will go away."

Grant turned from her, and ground his heel into the snow. He had already
given up almost everything that made life bright to him, but he had never
felt the bitterness he did at that moment, when he realized that another
and heavier sacrifice was demanded of him.

"Hetty," he said slowly, "can't you understand? I and the others brought
the homesteaders in; this land has fed me and given me all I have, and now
I can't go back on it and them. I would not be fit to marry you if I went
away."

The words were very simple, but the man's voice betrayed what he felt.
Hetty understood, and the pride she had no lack of came to the rescue.

"Yes," she said with a little sob, "Larry you are right. You will forgive
me, dear, for once more tempting you. Perhaps it will all come right by
and by. And now I must go."

There was a crackle of brittle twigs, and Grant dimly saw Miss Schuyler
riding towards them. Reaching out, he took Hetty's hands and drew her
closer.

"There is just one thing you must promise me, my dear," he said. "If your
father insists on your listening to Clavering, you will let me know. Then
I will come to Cedar for you, and there are still a few Americans who have
not lost confidence in their leader and will come with me. Nothing must
make you say yes to him."

"No," said Hetty simply. "If I cannot avoid it any other way, I will send
for you. I can't wait any longer--and here is Flo."

Larry stooped; but before she laid her foot in the hand he held out for
her to mount by, Hetty bent her head swiftly, and kissed him.

"Now," she said softly, "do you think I could listen to Clavering? You
will do what you have to, and I will wait for you. It is hard on us both,
dear; but I can't help recognizing my duty, too."

Larry lifted her to the saddle, and she vanished into the gloom of the
birches before he could speak to Miss Schuyler, who wheeled her horse and
followed her. A few minutes more and he was riding towards Fremont as fast
as his horse could flounder through the slushy snow, his face grown set
and resolute again, for he knew he had difficult work to do.

"I don't quite know what has come over you, Larry," Breckenridge said an
hour or two later with a puzzled look at Grant as he lifted his eyes from
the writing pad on his knee. "I hav