“Come, Mrs. McGee,” he said, hardly able to control his irritation, “what is it you have against me?” “Do ye need to ask it?” “I am asking it.” “It’s about the gyrul, bless her hear-rt! She do be cryin’ her two eyes out all the time.” “Well, that’s just what I came down here for, Mrs. McGee, to have a talk with her; I’ve arranged matters so that both she and that young fellow can be released at once.” “Do yez mane it?” said Mrs. McGee, rising. “Nothing else.” “Hiven be praised, thin! And I’m takin’ back all the mane things I was thinkin’ about ye, and sayin’ to yer face as well as behint yer back.” “Can I go in to see her?” Mrs. McGee hesitated. “I’ll tell her it’s you that’s wantin’ to say her.” She set out to do this, but crafty Barlow followed her; and when she opened the girl’s door he was right behind her, and pushed on in without asking permission to enter. Mrs. McGee retreated with as good grace as she could, but hovered in the hall, to be near if needed. She did not trust Lieutenant Barlow, and she was ready to follow her suspicions with sharp words and sharp deeds if they seemed to be needed. The girl retreated across the room when she saw who her caller was. “Come, now, don’t be foolish, May!” said Barlow, advancing upon her in the corner to which she had fled. She stared at him. She could not retreat farther. “What is it you want now?” she asked doggedly. “_You!_” “I--I don’t understand you!” “Well, during the past month or so I’ve tried to make myself plain on that point.” “And you have had my answer.” “You couldn’t change it?” “No.” “All right, then. I’m here, as I ought to have informed you at once, to tell you that I have found a way by which both you and Ben Stevens may leave this place.” She took a step toward him eagerly. “Do you mean it?” “I shouldn’t say it, otherwise. I have talked with the other officers here, and with Buffalo Bill, the scout, who has just come in; and they are of the opinion that it is wrong to hold you and Stevens. I beg you to understand that whatever I did I did believing it the thing I was forced to do, not the thing I wished to do. And now if you’ll go with me I’ll see that you are furnished a horse, and you and Stevens may both leave here as soon as you like.” She was about to follow him impulsively; but something bade her stop. It may have been something peculiar in his voice, hinting of treachery. Whatever it was, it was as if a wall had been suddenly raised before her and she was warned not to pass it. “You mean it?” she said, looking at him intently. “Why should I take the trouble to come here and say it, if I didn’t mean it?” he asked. “Oh, I don’t know--I don’t know!” He stepped to the door, expecting her to follow him, but she did not. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked. “What’s the trouble now? You complained because I held you and Stevens, after you were brought here. Now what is it?” Though he tried hard, he could not keep the irritation out of his voice.