Virginia was also alert to the importance of the table in the situation. Her fine instinct of the purport of his thoughts quickened her measure of defense. She grasped the edge of the table with both her hands. Rutley saw her purpose, drew back and side-stepped. Virginia also side-stepped, but kept close to the table and directly opposite him. She realized that the danger of her position was very great. In the cabin she had been armed and prepared for an extreme emergency. Now she was without defensive weapons of any kind save her native wit, her courage and the table to which she clung. Never taking his eyes from her, Rutley stood for a moment, indecisive and silent. Yet his mind was working furiously. "A woman stands in my way," he inaudibly muttered with clinched teeth. "Time is pressing. I will force her into submission!" The intense strain on his nerves drew a cold dew of perspiration that glistened on his brow. Slowly he drew the revolver from his pocket. Slowly he raised it and pointed it at her, then hissed, as he glared at her: "Remove your hands from the table and assist me to escape." Virginia again drew herself erect, her eyes sparkling with defiance and her face aglow with courage. "I know my death would only add one more crime to your record," she said, with a faint quiver in her soft voice, and after a slight pause, she went on more steadily: "But you dare not shoot and your threats are vain." As he gazed on her slight form drawn erect; those pure, brave, steadfast, blue eyes; those features, delicate and tense with a sense of the danger of her position, she affected him strongly; thrilled him with an admiration which, with all his virile power and hardened senses, he could not mask. "You are daring a desperate man," he resumed. "One who means to halt at no crime to secure his flight to liberty." The softened expression of his features, softened in spite of himself, led Virginia to think that his words were not meant to be taken too seriously, and so hope and fear alternated with amazing swiftness on her expressive face, which at last settled into a look of credulity and prompted her to hazard a smile at his threat. "Beware!" he hissed, struggling to appear fierce. "Do not mistake me!" "Oh, no; I do not mistake you," she replied, again smiling faintly, "for I know you are too much of a man to redden your hands with the life of a puny, defenseless girl." The artless play of her features to entice him from his desperate purpose was exquisite, and not without temporary success. "Her witchery is unnerving me," he silently muttered, as he felt his will-power was dominant no longer. As their eyes remained fastened on each other he felt an awe seize him, and he for the moment forgot his design. He drew back and said, almost submissively: "God, you are brave, and beautiful as brave. I can't harm you." And he slowly lowered the revolver.