“Don’t flatter yourself. I call her Renna for short. Her real name’s Zyp.” I laughed over the queer deduction; then sighed. “Will you love me?” I said to the little girl, but she was too shy to answer. I stroked her shining head and poke over it to Zyp. “Tell me all about it, dear,” said I. “It’s nothing, but the old miserable story--pursuit and flight; and with each new movement some little means of living abandoned.” Looking at this pale, injured woman, a fierce deep resentment flared up in my heart against the inexorable tyranny of the fiend who would not learn mercy. I had too long stood aside; too long remained neutral in an unnatural warfare, the most innocent victim of which was she whose image my soul professed to hold inviolate. Old ties bound me no longer. Her champion would I be in life and death, meeting stealth with secrecy, pursuit with ambush. I put the child from me and rose hurriedly to my feet. “Zyp!” I cried, “this must end! Forgive me that, holding you in my heart as I have always done, I have not been more active in your succor. Here all doubt ends. I devote myself body and soul to your help and welfare!” Crying softly, she drew her little one to her and wound her arms about her. Now the last of her weird nature seemed broken and gone, and she was woman only, helpless and alone. “Renny, Renny,” she sobbed, “why didn’t you sooner? Oh, Renny! Why didn’t you sooner?” Her anguish--her implied reproach--pierced to my soul. “Has that been in your mind, Zyp? I never thought--it was always a habit with me to yield the lead to Jason, and you were so strong and independent.” “Not now for long--a haunted, hunted thing! But I had no right--and then, your father.” “If I thought I had sacrificed your interests to a mistaken sense of duty to him--ah, Zyp, it would be a very bitter thing.” “No, no! You’ve always been strong and good and generous. Don’t mind what I say. I’m only desperate with trouble. Hush, little rabbit! Mother cries with joy to have found a friend.” “Need you have sought long? Every word you say seems a reproach.” “No, no, no; you’ll misread me and fall away from us at the last.” “I swear not! Tell me what has happened.” “We thought we had escaped him--perhaps that he was dead. There was a long respite; then one night--four, five days ago--he was there. Some place where they gamble with cards--and he accused my husband of cheating. There was a terrible scene. Jason came home all smeared with blood, but it was the old terror that made us despair. Why are such things allowed on earth? It seemed all leaf and flowers and sky to me once. How long ago! He stood outside our lodgings the next morning. His dreadful face was like a devil’s. Then we knew we must go. When the bill was paid we had only a few shillings left. In our sickness we turned to you, and we set off tramping, tramping down to Winton by easy stages. Jason carried the child; my arms were too weak.” “And he--that other?”