It was part of his supreme audacity to trust her. While he was changing

his dusty, travel-stained clothes for some that belonged to her brother

she prepared a meal for him downstairs. A dozen times the impulse was on

her to fly into the street and call out that Black MacQueen was in the

house, but always she restrained herself. He was going to leave the

country within a few hours. Better let him go without bloodshed.

He came down to his dinner fresh from a bath and a shave, wearing a new

tweed suit, which fitted him a trifle loosely, but was not unbecoming to

his trim, lithe figure. No commercial traveler at a familiar hotel could

have been more jauntily and blithely at home.

"So you didn't run away!" He grinned.

"Not yet. I'm going to later. I owe you a meal, and I wanted to pay it

first."

It was his very contempt of fear that had held her. To fool away half an

hour in dressing, knowing that it was very likely she might be summoning

men to kill him--to come down confident and unperturbed, possibly to meet

his death--was such a piece of dare-deviltry as won reluctant admiration,

in spite of her detestation of him. Even if she did not give him up, his

situation was precarious in the extreme. All the trains were being

watched; and in spite of this he had to walk boldly to the station, buy a

ticket, and pass himself off for an ordinary traveler.

Both knew that the chances were against him, but he gave no sign of

concern or anxiety. Never had Melissy seen him so full of spirits. The

situation would have depressed most men; him it merely stimulated. The

excitement of it ran like wine through his blood. Driven from his hills,

with every man's hand against him, with the avenues of escape apparently

closed, he was in his glory. He would play his cards out to the end,

without whining, no matter how the game might go.

Melissy washed the dishes, in order that the cook might not know that she

had had a guest for luncheon. The two returned to the living room. It was

his whim to have her play for him; and she was glad to comply, because it

interfered with his wooing. She was no longer greatly afraid of him, for

she knew that he was on his good behavior to win her liking.

Fortune favored her. For some time they had heard the cook moving about in

the kitchen. Once she had poked her head in to know whether her young

mistress would like the cherry pie for dinner.




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