their simplicity there seemeda delicate sweetness that stirred him.
"I'll come back to you," he said.
Then, in his response, the girl in her turn became aware of somethingbeside the simpler words -- a vague charm about them that faintlyhaunted her after he had gone away down the stairs.
_That_ was the man she had once tried to kill! At the sudden andterrible recollection she shivered from curly head to bandaged feet.Then she trembled a little with the memory of his lips against herbruised hands -- bruised by handcuffs which he had fastened upon her.
She sat very, very still now, huddled on the bed's edge, scarcelybreathing.
For the girl was beginning to dare formulate the deepest of any thoughtsthat had ever stirred her virgin mind and body.
If it was love, then it had come suddenly, and strangely. It had comeon that day -- at the very moment when he flung her against the tree andhandcuffed her -- that terrible instant -- if it were love.
Or -- what was it that so delicately overwhelmed her with pleasure inhis presence, in his voice, in the light, firm sound of his spurredtread on the veranda below?
Friendship? A lonely passion for young and decent companionship? Theclean youth of him in contrast to the mangy, surly louts who hauntedClinch's Dump, -- was that the appeal?
Listening there where she sat clasping the book, she heard his steadytread patrolling the veranda; caught the faint fragrance of his brierpipe in the still night air.
"I think -- I think it's -- love," she said under her breath. ... "Buthe couldn't ever think of me----" always listening to his spurred treadbelow.
After a while she placed both bandaged feet on the rug. It hurt her,but she stood up, walked to the open window. She wanted to look at him-- just a moment----
By chance he looked up at that instant, and saw her pale face, like aflower in the starlight.
"Why, Eve," he said, "you ought no be on your feet."
"Once," she said, "you weren't so particular about my bruises."
Her breathless little voice coming down through the starlight thrilledhim.
"Do you remember what I did?" he asked.
"Yes. You bruised my hands and made my mouth bleed."
"I did penance -- for your hands."
"Yes, you kissed _them!_"
What possessed her -- what irresponsible exhilaration was inciting herto a daring utterly foreign to her nature? She heard herself laugh,knew that she was young, pretty, capable of provocation. And in asudden, breathless sort of way an overwhelming desire seized her toplease, to charm, to be noticed by such a man -- whatever, onafterthought, he might think of the step-child of Mike Clinch.
Stormont had come directly under her window and stood looking up.
"I dared not offer further penance," he said.
The emotion in his voice stirred her -- but she was still laughing downat him.
She said: "You _did_ offer further penance -- you offered yourhandkerchief. So -- as that was _all_ you offered as reparation for --my lips----"
"Eve! I could have taken you into my arms---"
"You _did!_ And threw me down among the spruces. You really dideverything that a contrite heart could suggest----"
"Good heavens!" said that rather matter-of-fact young man, "I don'tbelieve you have forgiven me after all."
"I have -- everything except the handkerchief----"
"Then I'm coming up to complete my penance----"
"I'll lock my door!"
"Would you?"
"I ought to. ... But if you are in great spiritual distress, and if youreally and truly repent, and if you humble desire to expiate your sin bydoing -- penance----" And hesitated: "Do you so desire?"
"Yes, I do."
"Humbly? Contritely?"
"Yes."
"Very well. Say `Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.'"
"Mea maxima culpa," he said so earnestly, looking up into her face thatshe bent lower over the sill to see him.
"Let me come up, Eve," he said.
She strove to laugh, gazing down into his shadowy face -- but suddenlythe desire had left her, -- and all her gaiety left her, too, suddenly,leaving only a still excitement in her breast.
"You - you knew I was just laughing," she said unsteadily. "Youunderstood, didn't you?"
"I don't know."
After a silence: "I didn't mean you to take me seriously," she said.She tried to laugh. It was no use. And, as she leaned there on thesill, her heart frightened her with its loud beating.
"Will you let me come up, Eve?"
No answer.
"Would you lock your door?"
"What do you think I'd do?" she asked tremulously.
"You know; I don't."
"Are you so sure I know what I'd do? I don't think either of us knowour own minds. ... I seem to have lost some of my wits. ... Somehow...."
"If you are not going to sleep, let me come up."
"I want you to take a walk down by the pond. And while you're walkingthere all by yourself, I want you to think very clearly, very calmly,and make up your mind whether I should remain awake to-night, orwhether, when you return, I ought to be asleep and -- and my doorbolted."
After a long pause: "All right," he said in a low voice.
* * * * *
V
She saw him walk away -- saw his shadowy, well-built form fade into thestarlit mist.
An almost uncontrollable impulse set her throat and lips quivering withdesire to call to him through the night, "I do love you! I do love you!Come back quickly, quickly!----"
Fog hung over Star Pond, edging the veranda, rising in frail shreds toher window. The lapping of the water sounded very near. An owl wasvery mournful in the hemlocks.
The girl turned from the window, looked at the door for a moment, thenher face flushed and she walked toward a chair and seated herself,leaving the door unbolted.
For a little while she sat upright, alert, as though a littlefrightened. After a few moments she folded her hands and satunstirring, with lowered head, awaiting Destiny.
* * * * *
It came, noiselessly. And so swiftly that the rush of air from herviolently opened door was what first startled her.
For in the same second Earl Leverett was upon her in his stockingedfeet, one bony hand gripping her mouth, the other flung around her,pinning both arms to her sides.
"The packet!" he panted, "-- quick, yeh dirty little cat, 'r'I'll breakyeh head off'n yeh damn neck!"
She bit at the hand that he held crushed against her mouth. He liftedher bodily, flung her onto the bed, and, twisting sheet and quilt aroundher, swathed her to the throat.
Still controlling her violently distorted lips with his left hand andholding her so, one knee upon her, he reached back, unsheathed hishunting knife, and pricked her throat till the blood spurted.
"Now, gol ram yet!" he whispered fiercely, "where's Mike's packet?Yell, and I'll hog-stick yeh fur fair! Where is it, you dum thing!"
He took his left hand from her mouth. The distorted, scarlet lipswrithed back, displaying her white teeth clenched.
"Where's Mike's bundle!" he repeated, hoarse with rage and fear.
"You rat!" she gasped.
At that he closed her mouth again, and again he pricket her with hisknife, cruelly. The blood welled up onto the sheets.
"Now, by God!" he said in a ghastly voice, "answer or I'll hog-stick yehnext time! Where is it? Where! where!"
She only showed her teeth in answer. Her eyes flamed.
"Where! Quick! Gol ding yeh, I'll shove this knife in behind your earif you don't tell! Go on. Where is it? It's in this Dump som'ers. Iknow it is -- don't lie! You want that I should stick you good? Thatwhat you want -- you dirty little dump-slut? Well, then, gol ram yeh --I'll fix yeh like Quintana was aimin' at----"
He slit the sheet downward from her imprisoned knees, seized one woundedfoot and tried to slash the bandages.
"I'll cut a coupla toes off'n yeh," he snar
led, "-- I'll hamstring yehfur keeps!" -- struggling to mutilate her while she flung her helplessand entangled body from side to side and bit at the hand that was almostsuffocating her.
Unable to hold her any longer, he seized a pillow, to bury the venomouslittle head that writhed, biting, under his clutch.
As he lifted it he saw a packet lying under it.
"By God!" he panted.
As he seized it she screamed for the first time: "Jack! Jack Stormont!"-- and fairly hurled her helpless little body at Leverett, striking himfull in the face with her head.
Half stunned, still clutching the packet, he tried to stab her in thestomach; but the