"Kirby," I said sternly, but quietly, stepping directly across toward him, "I've heard what you said, and that is enough. You are a prisoner, and helpless, but I am going to tell you now to hold your tongue. Otherwise you will never see me at the stake, because I shall blow your brains out where you lie. One more word, and I am going to rid this world of its lowest specimen of a human being." "You dare not do--" "And why not? You promise me death either way; what have I to lose then by sending you first? It will rid the girl of you, and that means something to me--and her. Just try me, and see." He must have read the grim meaning in my face, for he fell back against the log, muttering incoherently, his dark eyes wells of hate, his face a picture of malignancy, but utterly helpless--the lurking coward in him, unable to face my threat. I left him and stooped above her. "We shall be busy presently; the delay cannot be much longer. I am afraid that fellow may succeed somehow in doing us harm. He is crazed enough to attempt anything. May I trust you to guard him?" Her eyes, absolutely fearless and direct, looked straight up into mine. "Yes, he will make no movement I shall not see. Tell me; do you believe there is hope?" "God knows. We shall do our best. If the worst comes--what?" "Do not fear for me; do not let any memory of me turn you aside from your work," she said quietly. "I know what you mean and pledge you I shall never fall into his hands. It--it cannot be wrong, I am sure, and--and I must tell you that. I--I could not, Steven, for--for I love you." My eager hands were upon hers, my eyes greedily reading the message revealed so frankly in the depths of her own. She only was in my thoughts; we were there alone--alone. "They're a comin', Cap," yelled Kennedy and his rifle cracked. "By God! they're here!"