All that day, she watched the battle--saw him fighting with himself. He kept apart from her, and spoke but little. When night came, as soon as supper was over, he again left the cabin, to spend the long, dark hours in a struggle that the girl could only dimly sense. She could not understand; but she felt him fighting, fighting; and she knew that he fought for her. What was it? What terrible unseen force mastered this man,--compelled him to do its bidding,--even while he hated and loathed himself for submitting? Watchful, ready, hoping, despairing, the helpless girl could only pray that her companion might be given strength. The following morning, at breakfast, he told her that he must go to Granite Peak to signal. His orders were to lock her in the cabin, and to go alone; but he would not. She might go with him, if she chose. Even this crumb of encouragement--that he would so far disobey his master--filled the girl's heart with hope. "I would love to go with you, Mr. Marston," she said, "but if it is going to make trouble for you, I would rather stay." "You mean that you would rather be locked up in the cabin all day, than to make trouble for me?" he asked. "It wouldn't be so terrible," she answered, "and I would like to do something--something to--to show you that I appreciate your, kindness to me. There's nothing else I _can_ do, is there?" The man looked at her wonderingly. It was impossible to doubt her sincerity. And Sibyl, as she saw his face, knew that she had never before witnessed such mental and spiritual anguish. The eyes that looked into hers so questioningly, so pleadingly, were the eyes of a soul in torment. Her own eyes filled with tears that she could not hide, and she turned away. At last he said slowly, "No, Miss Andrés, you shall not stay in the cabin to-day. Come; we must go on, or I shall be late." At Granite Peak, Sibyl watched the signal flashes from distant Fairlands--the flashes that Aaron King was watching, from the peak where they had sat together that day of their last climb. As the man answered the signals with his mirror, and the girl beside him watched, the artist was training his glass upon the spot where they stood; but, partially concealed as they were, the distance was too great.