.

Northrup was coming out of the cabin! Rivers had not realized that he
trusted Northrup, but he had, and he was betrayed! All the bitterness
of defeat swept over him and hate and revenge alone swayed him.
Suddenly he grew calm. Northrup had passed from sight; the white mists
of the morning were rolling and breaking. He would wait--if Mary-Clare
was in the cabin, and Larry believed she was, he could afford to bide
his time. Indeed, it was the only thing to do, for in a primitive
fashion Rivers decided to deal only with his woman, and he meant to
have a free hand. He would have no fight for what was not worth
fighting for--he would solve things in his own way and be off before
any one interfered.

And then he turned sharply. Someone was advancing from the opposite
direction. It was Mary-Clare. She came up her own trail, emerging from
the mists like a shadowy creature of the woods; she walked slowly,
wearily, up to the Place and went inside with the eyes of two men full
upon her.

At that moment the sun broke through the mists; it flooded the cabin
and touched warmly the girl who sank down beside the table. Instantly
her glance fell upon the note by the Bible. She took it up, read it
once, twice, and--understood more, far more than Northrup could
guess.

Perhaps a soul awakening from the experience of death might know the
sensation that throbbed through the consciousness of Mary-Clare at
that moment. The woman of her had been born in the cabin the day
before, but the birth pains had exhausted her. She had not censured
Northrup in her woman-thought; she had believed something of what now
she knew, and understood. She raised the note and held it out on her
open palms--almost it seemed as if she were showing it to some unseen
Presence as proof of all she trusted. With the sheet of paper still
held lightly, Mary-Clare walked to the door of her cabin. She had no
purpose in mind--she wanted the air; the sunlight. And so she stood in
the full glow, her face uplifted, her arms outspread.

Northrup from his hidden place watched her for a moment, bowed his
head, and turned to the inn. Larry watched her; in a dumb way he saw
revealed the woman he had never touched; never owned. Well, he would
have his revenge.

Mary-Clare turned back after her one exalted moment; she took her
place by the table and spread again the note before her. She did not
notice the footsteps outside until Larry was on the threshold and then
she turne