There was an impressive silence in Hetty's little drawing-room at Cedar Range when Cheyne, who had ridden there the day after he left Fremont, told his story. He had expected attention, but the effect his narrative produced astonished him. Hetty had softly pushed her chair back into the shadow where the light of the shaded lamp did not fall upon her, but her stillness was significant. He could, however, see Miss Schuyler, and wondered what accounted for the impassiveness of her face, now the colour that had flushed her cheek had faded. The silence was becoming embarrassing when Miss Schuyler broke it. "Mr. Grant is recovering?" she asked. "Yes," said Cheyne. "He was coming round when I left him. The blow might have been a dangerous one; but I had a suspicion he had more than that to contend with." "Yes?" said Hetty, a little breathlessly. "Of course, his affairs were not my business," Cheyne went on, "but it seemed to me the man had been living under a heavy strain; and though we were strangers, I could not help feeling a sympathy that almost amounted to a liking for him. He must have found it trying when the men he had done his best for came round to burn his place; but I understand he went out to speak to them with empty hands when they struck him down." "What made them attack him?" asked Miss Schuyler. "I'm not quite sure, but I have an idea they were displeased because he did not countenance their attempt to wreck the cattle-train. Then, I believe he held some dollars in trust for them, and, as they presumably wanted them for some fresh outrage, would not give them up. Mr. Grant is evidently a man with a sense of responsibility." Hetty looked up suddenly. "Yes," she said. "He would have let them tear him to pieces before he gave them one." Cheyne noticed the faint ring in her voice, and fancied it would have been plainer had she not laid a restraint upon herself. A vague suspicion he had brushed away once more crept into his mind. "Well," he said, slowly, watching Hetty the while, "I fancy the efforts he made to save your friends' stock will cost him a good deal. The point is that a man of his abilities must have recognized it at the time." Hetty met his glance, and Cheyne saw the little glow in her eyes. "Do you think that would have counted for anything with such a man?" Cheyne made a little gesture of negation that in a curious fashion became him. "No. That is, I do not believe he would have let it influence him." "That," said Miss Schuyler, "is a very comprehensive admission." Cheyne smiled. "I don't know that I could desire a higher tribute paid to me. Might one compliment you both on your evident desire to be fair to your enemies?" He saw the faint flush in Hetty's face, and was waiting with a curious expectancy for her answer, when Torrance came in. He appeared grimly pleased at something as he signed to Cheyne.