Like a flash, Marie flattened herself against the bank--one more dark shadow among the others--and none too soon, for the second man was close upon them, so close they could hear the heavy rasp of his breathing. Eveley had not time to raise herself for another spring, so she crouched against the bank in terror, hoping in his haste that he might pass them by. But as he came near he paused suddenly, his attention attracted by the sound of tearing brush, and the incoherent cries of his companion as he rolled down the canyon. Taking it as an indication that the chase was in that direction, he turned blindly to follow, and not knowing the lay of the land, lost his footing at once and fell headlong. Eveley was upon her feet in an instant. "Run, Marie," she whispered, and in less than a moment they were hurrying up the path behind the rose pergola under the magnolias and beneath the light from their Cloud Cote. "Wait," whispered Marie. "Let's hide a moment. They might see us going up the stairs. Wait beneath the roses until they are gone." Only faint sounds came up to them as the two men, bruised and sore, painfully picked themselves up from the rocks and the prickly shrubs. Evidently they realized there was no hope of further pursuit, for in a short while the girls could hear the faint echo of their heavy footsteps as they retraced their way down the canyon. Eveley held Marie in her arms until the last sound had echoed away, and then silently they climbed the stairs, crossed the little garden on the roof, and crawled through the window into the safety of the Cote. "Are you hurt, Marie?" asked Eveley, the first to break the tense silence that fell upon them when they were conscious of shelter and security. Marie shook her head. Then she moved one step toward Eveley, and asked in a pleading whisper: "Are you angry with me? Do you hate me?" "Oh, Marie, don't talk so," cried Eveley, nervous tears springing to her eyes. "How could I be angry with you? But I was so frightened and shocked. I did not know how very much I loved you. You must never go into the canyon again at night. Never once,--for one minute. Will you promise me?" "I will promise whatever you wish, Eveley, you know." Eveley smiled at her weakly, and turning to take off her wraps saw with surprise that the sleeves were torn almost from her coat. "I must have come down with quite a bang," she said faintly, suddenly aware that her shoulders were quivering with pain. With a little cry of pity, Marie ran to her, and tenderly helped to remove her blouse. The tears ran down her face when she saw the red and swollen shoulders beneath. "Oh, my poor angel," she mourned. "All bruised and sore like that. For me. You never should have done it." Very sweetly she bathed the shoulders, and when Eveley crept painfully into bed, she arranged soft compresses of cotton and oil for her to lie upon. And she asked, shyly, if she might sit by the bed.