Presently there were footsteps in the path, and to Willock's intense disappointment, Gledware and Annabel came in together. They were in the midst of a conversation and at the first few words, he found it related to Lahoma. The boatman who had promised to bring the skiff for them at seven--it developed that Gledware had no intention of doing the rowing--had not yet come. They sat down on the rustic bench, their voices distinctly audible in all parts of the small building. "Her closest living relative," Gledware said, "is a great-aunt, living in Boston. As soon as I found out who she was--I'd always supposed her living among Indians, and that it would be impossible to find her--but as soon as I learned the truth, without saying anything to HER, I wrote to her great-aunt. I've never been in a position to take care of Lahoma--I felt that I ought to place her with her own family. I got an answer--about what you would expect. They'd give her a home--I told them what a respectable girl she is--fairly creditable appearance--intelligent enough... But they couldn't stand those people she lives with--criminals, you know, Annabel, highwaymen--murderers! Imagine Brick Willock in a Boston drawing-room... But you couldn't." "No," Annabel agreed. "Poor Lahoma! And I know she'd never give him up." "That's it--she's immovable. She'd insist on taking him along. But he belongs to another age--a different country. He couldn't understand. He thinks when you've anything against a man, the proper move is to kill 'im. He's just like an Indian--a wild beast. Wouldn't know what we meant if we talked about civilization. His religion is the knife. Well--you see; if he were out of the way, Lahoma would have her chance." "But couldn't he be arrested?" "That's my only hope. If he were hanged, or locked up for a certain number of years, Lahoma'd go East. But as long as he's at large, she'll wait for him to turn up. She'll stay right there in the cove till she dies of old age, if he's free to visit her at odd moments. It's her idea of fidelity, and it's true that he did take her in when she needed somebody. There's a move on foot now, to arrest him for an old crime--a murder. I witnessed the deed--I'll testify, if called on. Lahoma will hate me for that--but it'll be the greatest favor I could possibly do her. She knows I mean to appear against him, and she thinks me a brute. But if I can convict Willock, it'll place Lahoma in a family of wealth and refinement--" He broke off with, "Wonder why that old deaf boatman doesn't come?" He walked impatiently to the head of the steps and stared out over the lake. "Somebody out there now," he exclaimed. "Oh,--it's Edgerton, rowing about!" He returned to the bench, but did not sit down. "Annabel," he said abruptly, "you promised me to name the day, this morning." "Yes," she responded very faintly.