Riever could not stand up under it. His chin sunk, his body twisted. As a matter of fact he simply could not face the thought that the man he hated so had won the woman he desired. He snatched at any hope. "Well ... if you're not hiding him, where is he?" he mumbled. "I don't know. Far away, I hope." "How could he have got away?" "He walked up the Neck road while you were searching the shores." "Oh God, if I could believe you!" groaned Riever. "Well, I can't help you," said Pen. She saw that with every word she was regaining the upper hand, and her heart was strong. A cajoling note crept into Riever's voice. "Well, you couldn't do him any further good by lying. If he's anywhere near we're bound to get him in the morning. Within an hour Delehanty 'll send a party by boat up to the head of Back Creek. They'll form a line across the Neck. At dawn we stretch another line across this end and close up. He can't escape between them." Pen's heart contracted painfully, but she gave no outward sign. "What are you telling me this for?" she asked. "You can't do him any further good. Leave him to his fate. Tell me where he is so I'll know you're on the square with me." "It's nothing to me whether you think I'm on the square or not." Riever raised his clenched hands in a gesture of impotent rage. "I've got to know!..." "I wouldn't tell you if I knew," said Pen. "I wouldn't betray any man. Not you if you were in his place." With a painful struggle for self-command he took still another tone. "Well, that's all right. I'll say no more about him.... But give me a pledge!" "Why should I?" she said coldly. Again the shaking gesture. "I can't stand this!" "I'm afraid you'll have to!" His voice became more abject. "Wait a minute! You don't understand. All I want is a word. You see how I am suffering. A word from you will end it!" Pen was too startled to be angry any more. A terribly dangerous situation faced her, and she needed all her wits with which to meet it. He took heart from her silence, her apparent uncertainty. "I'm asking you to marry me," he said with a touch of his old arrogance. "Do you get it? Mrs. Ernest Riever. Think what it means.... What do you say?" "I won't answer you now," she murmured. "You've got to answer me!" he said violently. "I've got to know how you stand towards me!" She was silent. "Look at it as a young fellow would look at a chance to advance himself," he rushed on. It was one kind of love-making. "Look what I have to offer you. A place in the sun! A place every living woman would envy you! Isn't that sweet to you? And by God! you'd grace it too, with your beauty and your high ways. You weren't shaped to wear print dresses, Pen. Think, think what you'd be. A sort of queen. A queen without any responsibilities. Carried about like a queen wherever you wanted to go, with an army to wait on you. Your slightest wish granted!"