The bull calf pushed its powerful head under her hand, which now hung free, and she walked, leaning upon it, till the mastiff slowly inserted himself between the two, and, with a sudden push of its side, ousted the calf, who took a short scamper and returned head downward toward the mastiff's broad flank. The terrier laughed aloud: no one could have interpreted his snorts of delight otherwise. The mastiff reluctantly withdrew his soft nose from Bertha's palm, and attended to matters of defense. All the calves scattered in an ungainly dance, and all returned circling the dogs with lowered heads. Bertha watched these antics with a sad smile; then by sundry cuffs and pats put an end to the feud. When they had fed the calves and the other creatures who lived in sumptuous hutches and sties behind the barn, Durgan asked his question. Chapter XX THE TERRIBLE CONFESSION Bertha and Durgan were standing in the broad central doorway of the barn. Hay, full of meadow flowers, was piled high to right and left. The air was full of dried pollen, and golden with the level sunlight. "Do you know who it was that killed your parents?" Durgan asked. She put up trembling hands in the brave pretense of shielding her eyes from the sun. Her whole body shook; her head sank on her breast. At last she said in faint tones: "You think _this_ because I warned you of danger--because of all I have said; but I was distracted, and at that time I did not foresee that you must be told who we are." "All that is true. I am more sorry for you than words can say; but it must be better for you to share a secret you seem to be nursing alone, and you cannot think I would ask if I did not need to know." She did not answer. He suspected that she was using all her attention to regain self-control and the strength that she had lost so suddenly. "You told me that you thought you knew who committed this second crime," he said, "and I am convinced that you connect it with that other." A low moan escaped her. Her head sank lower. "I believe that the nigger is guilty, but I can't go to court and swear away his life, knowing only what you have told me and no more." She whispered eagerly: "Will it do if I swear now that I believe I was mistaken--that I knew nothing, or, at least, no proof to the contrary?" "Have you ever had the least reason to suppose that another person capable of these crimes lurked upon Deer?" "If I swear to you that I never thought anyone else was near us, or on the mountain, will that satisfy you?" She was leaning her brow heavily on the hand that shaded her face. "No one else--else than----?" She did not help him out. She sat down, or rather crouched, on the steps of the loft. He said very gently but resolutely: "You think, then, that your sister committed these crimes."