They both entered the shack again and the big fellow went up to the bunk upon which lay his friend. For a very long time he looked at him, finally touching a hand with infinite care and gentleness. After this he turned to Madge a face expressive of deepest pain. "Leetle leddy," he said, gently, "vos it true as you shot him? Papineau he telt me so. A accident, he said it vos." The girl looked at him imploringly, with elbows bent but hands stretched towards him, as if she were suing for forgiveness. The man was seated on a stool, waiting for her answer. "Yes, it was an accident--a terrible accident," sobbed Madge, whose strength and courage seemed to leave her suddenly. "You--you believe me, don't you?" It is hard to say whether it was weakness or the excess of her emotion that forced her down to her knees. She grasped one of the huge hands the man had extended towards her. He laid the other upon her bent back, very softly. "In course I do, you poor leetle leddy. Yes, I sure beliefe you. Dere vosn't anybotty vould hurt Hugo, unless dey vos grazy, you bet. He ban a goot friend to me--ay, he ban a goot friend to all peoples." He helped her up, very tenderly, and made her sit on a stool close to the one he occupied. There was a very long interval of silence, during which his great face and beard were hidden in the hollow of his hands. Then he spoke again, in a very low voice, as if he had been addressing the smallest of his own babes. "You poor leetle leddy," he repeated, "I feels most turriple sorry for Hugo, for it most tear my heart out yoost to look at him. But vhen I looks at you I feels turriple sorry for you too. I knows vhat it must be, sure ting, for a leetle leddy like you to be sittin' here, in dis leetle shack, a-lookin' at de man she lofe an see de life goin' out of him. Last fall Hugo ban gone a vhiles back East again, and vhen you comes I tank mebbe you some nice gal he promise to marry. Even vhen de telegraft come I make sure it is so. I pring de bit paper here myself an' vaits a vhiles, but he no come and I haf to go on. I vanted to see de happy face on him. I say to myself, 'Hah! You rascal Hugo, you nefer tell nodding to your ole friend Stefan, but he know all de same.' But vhen I got to go I couldn't say nodding. I leaf de paper on de table here an' I tank how happy he is vhen he come home an' find it. You poor leetle leddy!" The man was mistaken, most honestly so, for no idea of love had ever entered Hugo's head, and none had come to Madge. Yet the big fellow's words seemed to stab the girl to the heart and she moaned. She felt that she could not allow Hugo's friend to remain undeceived. There had been already too many mysteries, too many lies--she would have no share in them if she could help it.