"
"But Rydal says he is going to die."
There was no mistaking the significance of Blake's words this time. Her
eyes filled with sudden horror. Then they flashed with the blue fire
again. "So--he has told you? Well, he told me the same thing today. He
didn't intend to, of course. But he was half mad, and he had been
drinking. He has given me twenty-four hours."
"In which to--surrender?"
There was no need to reply.
For the first time Blake smiled. There was something in that smile that
made her flesh creep. "Twenty-four hours is a short time," he said, "and
in this matter, Mrs. Keith, I think that you will find Captain Rydal a
man of his word. No need to ask you why you don't appeal to the crew!
Useless! But you have hope that I can help you? Is that it?"
Her heart throbbed. "That is why I have come to you, Mr. Blake. You told
me today that Fort Confidence is only a hundred and fifty miles away and
that a Northwest Mounted Police garrison is there this winter--with a
doctor. Will you help me?"
"A hundred and fifty miles, in this country, at this time of the year, is
a long distance, Mrs. Keith," reflected Blake, looking into her eyes with
a steadiness that at any other time would have been embarrassing. "It
means the McFarlane, the Lacs Delesse, and the Arctic Barren. For a
hundred miles there isn't a stick of timber. If a storm came--no man or
dog could live.
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