"Lieutenant Obergatz," she said, "by a chance of accident we have met again. Certainly you would not have sought the meeting any more than I. We have nothing in common other than those sentiments which may have been engendered by my natural dislike and suspicion of you, one of the authors of all the misery and sorrow that I have endured for endless months. This little corner of the world is mine by right of discovery and occupation. Go away and leave me to enjoy here what peace I may. It is the least that you can do to amend the wrong that you have done me and mine." The man stared at her through his fishy eyes for a moment in silence, then there broke from his lips a peal of mirthless, uncanny laughter. "Go away! Leave you alone!" he cried. "I have found you. We are going to be good friends. There is no one else in the world but us. No one will ever know what we do or what becomes of us and now you ask me to go away and live alone in this hellish solitude." Again he laughed, though neither the muscles of his eyes or his mouth reflected any mirth--it was just a hollow sound that imitated laughter. "Remember your promise," she said. "Promise! Promise! What are promises? They are made to be broken--we taught the world that at Liege and Louvain. No, no! I will not go away. I shall stay and protect you." "I do not need your protection," she insisted. "You have already seen that I can use a spear." "Yes," he said; "but it would not be right to leave you here alone--you are but a woman. No, no; I am an officer of the Kaiser and I cannot abandon you." Once more he laughed. "We could be very happy here together," he added. The woman could not repress a shudder, nor, in fact, did she attempt to hide her aversion. "You do not like me?" he asked. "Ah, well; it is too sad. But some day you will love me," and again the hideous laughter. The woman had wrapped the pieces of the buck in the hide and this she now raised and threw across her shoulder. In her other hand she held her spear and faced the German. "Go!" she commanded. "We have wasted enough words. This is my country and I shall defend it. If I see you about again I shall kill you. Do you understand?" An expression of rage contorted Obergatz' features. He raised his club and started toward her. "Stop!" she commanded, throwing her spear-hand backward for a cast. "You saw me kill this buck and you have said truthfully that no one will ever know what we do here. Put these two facts together, German, and draw your own conclusions before you take another step in my direction." The man halted and his club-hand dropped to his side. "Come," he begged in what he intended as a conciliatory tone. "Let us be friends, Lady Greystoke. We can be of great assistance to each other and I promise not to harm you."