Silent now, the storm over, side by side sat the man and the woman; like children awed by the sudden realisation of their helplessness, their hands clasped in mute sympathy, mute understanding. Usually at this time of day with nothing to do they slept; but neither thought of sleep now. As passed the slow time and the sun sank lower and lower, came the hour of supper; but likewise hunger passed them by. Something very like fascination held them there on the doorstep, gazing out, out at motionless impassive nature, at the seemingly innocent earth that nevertheless concealed so certain a menace, at the patch of sod corn again in cycle growing darker as the broad leaves unfolded in preparation for the dew of evening. Out, out they looked, out, out--. "Sam!" "Yes." "You saw, too?" An answering pressure of the hand. "The eyes of him, only the eyes--out there at the edge of the corn!" "It's the third time, Margaret." Despite the man's effort his breath tightened. "They're all about: a score at least--I don't know how many. The tall grass there to the east is alive--" "Sam! They're there again--the eyes! Oh, I'm afraid--Sam--baby!" "Hush! Leave her where she is. Don't seem afraid. It's our only chance. Let them make the first move." Again the hand pressure so tight that, although she made no sound, the blood left the woman's fingers. "Tell me you forgive me, Margaret; before anything happens. I'm a criminal to have stayed here,--I see it now, a criminal!" "Don't!" "But I must. Tell me you forgive me. Tell me." "I love you, Sam." Again in the expanse of grass to the east there was motion; not in a single spot but in a dozen places. No living being was visible, not a sound broke the stillness of evening; simply here and there it stirred, and became motionless, and stirred again. "And--Margaret. If worst comes to worst they mustn't take either of us alive. The last one--I can't say it. You understand." "Yes, I understand. The last load--But maybe--" "It's useless to deceive ourselves. They wouldn't come this way if--Margaret, in God's name--" "But baby, Sam!" Of a sudden she was struggling fiercely beneath the grip that kept her back. "I must have her, must see her again; must, must--" "Margaret!" "I must, I say!" "You must not. They'll never find her there. She's safe unless we show the way. Think--as you love her." "But if anything should happen to us--She'll starve!" "No. There are soldiers at Yankton, and they'll come--now; and Landor knows." "Oh, Sam, Sam!" There was silence. No human being could give answer to that mother wail.