He leaned back wearily in the chair, looking almost as though he had ceased to be of this world. The silence was broken only by the note of the mocking-bird, and the noise of the brown mare knocking impatiently against the stall. “She must go home to the life which she gave up for me,” Robert said, after a long pause. “I don’t want her sacrifices: they are not worth anything to me. I think I have enough money left for her passage, and if not, I know you will help me out. I must give her her freedom at once.” He rose abruptly, but sank back with a groan, his hand to his heart. [Illustration: “‘BEN,’ HE MURMURED, ‘WE MUST--’ HE FAINTED AWAY.”] “Ben,” he murmured, “we must--” He fainted away. Ben got him on the ground, loosened his shirt, tended him as he had so often done before in similar attacks, and he came back to life once more. After a time Ben put him to bed like a little tired child. He held Ben’s hand, and looked into his kind face and smiled. “Dear old fellow,” he said tenderly, “dear old fellow. We must send her home, Ben,” he said, as he turned his face to the wall. Then he raised himself for a moment. “She was mistaken about one thing,” he said. “She had seen some of those settled-up parts on her way out here, and they seemed attractive to her, and she reproached me for not having bought land there. But you know, Ben, I had not the money for that sort of thing; you know I could not have afforded to pay fancy prices for my ranch. But it was only that she did not understand.” After that he fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, and Ben crept back into the living-room, half beside himself with indignation and anxiety. He felt he ought to let Hilda know that Robert was with him, and yet it was quite impossible for him to leave his friend. He longed to see her, and speak his mind to her about her cruelty. His whole being was at feud with her. A torrent of words rushed to his lips, and broke off into impotent silence. There was a knock at the door. When he opened it, he found Hilda outside. “Robert is here?” she asked breathlessly. “Robert is here,” he answered coldly. He had stood barring the door as it were, and now he stepped back to let her pass in. “I must see him at once,” she said, turning round defiantly to Ben. “He is sleeping,” Ben said sternly. “At least let him rest awhile.” He lit the lamp, and placed it on the table, and then looked her straight in the face. “You have heard everything from Robert,” she said, shrinking back almost imperceptibly. “Robert has told me of his trouble,” Ben answered, trying manfully to restrain his anger. But he thought of his friend stricken to the heart, and his indignation could no longer be smothered.