"I can't say any more than you know already," he answered--"not so much; but last night a man was in your cabin, a man you know and quarreled with. I didn't hear you; don't think I was spying on you. A miner who passed the cabin heard your voices and told me something was wrong. You don't give me any right to advise you or dictate to you, 'Tana, but one thing you shall not do, that is, steal to the woods to meet him. And if I find him in your cabin, I promise you he sha'n't die of old age." "You would kill him?" "Like a snake!" and his voice was harsher, colder, than she had ever heard it. "I'm not asking you any questions, 'Tana. I know it was the man whom you--saw that night at the spring, and would not let me follow. I know there is something wrong, or he would come to see you, like a man, in daylight. If the others here knew it, they would say things not kind to you. And that is why it sha'n't go on." "Sha'n't? What right have you--to--to--" "You will say none," he answered, curtly, "because you do not know." "Do not know what?" she interrupted, but he only drew a deep breath and shook his head. "Tana, don't meet this man again," he said, pleadingly. "Trust me to judge for you. I don't want to be harsh with you. I don't want you to go away with hard thoughts against me. But this has got to stop--you must promise me." "And if I refuse?" "Then I'd look for the man, and he never would meet you again." A little shiver ran over her as he spoke. She knew what he meant, and, despite her bitter words last night to her visitor, the thought was horrible to her that Dan-- She covered her face with her hands and turned away. "Don't do that, little girl," he said, and laid his hand on her arm. "'Tana!" She flung off his hand as though it stung her, and into her mind flashed remembrance of Jake Emmons from Spokane--of him and his words. "Don't touch me!" she half sobbed. "Don't you say another word to me! I am going away to-morrow, and I have promised to marry Max Lyster." His hand dropped to his side, and his face shone white in the wan glimmer of the stars. "You have promised that?" he said, at last, drawing his breath hard through his shut teeth. "Well--it is right, I suppose--right. Come! I will take you back to him now. He is the best one to guard you. Come!" She drew away and looked from him across to where the merest rim of the rising moon was to be seen across the hills. The thought of that other night came to her, the night when they had stood close to each other in the moonlight. How happy she had been for that one little space of time! And now--Ah! she scarcely dare allow him to speak kindly to her, lest she grow weak enough to long for that blind content once more. "Come, Tana." "Go. I will follow after a little," she answered, without turning her head. "I may never trouble you to walk with you again," he said, in a low, constrained tone; "but this time I must see you safe in the tent before I leave."