Then slowly she spake. "Your name, sir, and business?" "Madame," I said, "in the woods men call me John Norton; John Norton, the Trapper." Then I stopped mighty sudden, For her face it grew white to the lips and the chin, And she swayed as a tree to the stroke of the chopper When he sinks his axe in to the heart and it totters And quivers. So I stopped, stopped quick and stood looking. Then her dark face it lighted, and she said, speaking quickly: "John Norton, I know you. I know you are honest. You live in the woods. You are good. I can trust you. All men, I have heard, come to you in their trouble. Have you seen in the North, have you met in the woods, Has there come to your cabin a man, tall as you, Brave as you and as tender? A man like to this?" And out of her gown, from the folds on her bosom, She lifted a locket of pearl-colored velvet, Touched a spring, and I saw, as the lid of it opened, The face of the man I and Henry had buried! "John Norton," she cried, and her eyes burned like fever. Her hand shook and trembled, her face was as marble, "Have you seen in the woods man like to this picture? Speak quick and speak true as to woman in trouble. For I did him great wrong, I thought he held lightly My fair name and fame; held lightly my honor. I thought he meant evil, and my heart, filled with anger, Dismissed him in scorn; but I learned, I learned later, He was true, and spake truth and loved me as heaven." Then I stood and I looked and held my face steady, So it gave her no sign of what I was thinking. I saw she was honest, and I wished then to spare her, But my word it was pledged, pledged to him in dying, To stand as I stood, face to face with this woman, In her house, in that room, and give her his message. Beside, not to know is far worse than the knowing At times. So I rallied and told her the message, Word for word, as he charged, the night he lay dying In his house on the bank above the swift rapids.