"Thank you," he said hoarsely, and picked out another song at random. "Won't you try this? I've never heard it." "No," she answered firmly; "not that one." It was the ballad which Andrew had told her helped to send him up into the wilds where his duty lay. Henceforward it was sacred--not to be sung to such a man as Mappin. "Why?" he demanded. "I sing that only to people who I know will appreciate it." "And you don't think I would?" "It strikes me as very doubtful," she said with a smile in which there was a touch of scorn. His color deepened. She had shown signs of yielding, and how he wondered whether she had after all been amusing herself with him. Stirred as he was by passion he was in no reasoning mood; savage jealousy filled his heart. "It's the kind of thing you keep for sentimental fools like Allinson!" he exclaimed. Geraldine had expected some such outbreak. Indeed it was what she desired. "Well," she said with a tenderness which was meant to disturb her companion, "I sang it to him once." "It will be a long while before you sing it to him again!" The voice rang harsh with exultant fierceness and Geraldine knew that she had gained her object in rousing the brute in him. She had learned the truth--for whatever danger threatened her lover this man was responsible. But there was more she must know. "As he's a friend of ours, you're not very considerate," she said. "What makes you speak with so much certainty?" Mappin saw that he had been rash, and he was instantly on his guard. "It was a fool thing to go North in winter. It's no country for a raw tenderfoot, and Allinson should have taken a stronger party. I know something about transport work in the bush." "I suppose food would be their greatest difficulty," Geraldine remarked with a thoughtful air. "No. Fresh snow and blizzards would trouble them worse." "Still, food would be a consideration," Geraldine persisted. "I know they thought a good deal about the matter and had some caches made. If they couldn't find them coming back, it would be serious, wouldn't it?" Mappin's jealousy was heightened by her interest, but he regretted his haste and meant to be cautious. Unfortunately for him, the charm Geraldine had exercised had carried him away. He could not think as clearly as usual. "The provisions were carefully packed and sent up in charge of good men," he declared hotly. "They were properly cached; every precaution was taken." "Were they your men?" Mappin glanced at her sharply, but read nothing in her face. He could not evade the question without rousing suspicion. "Yes," he said; "that's why I know they could be relied on to do their work."