I haven't even
told you why we're going to Port Confidence. Now you'll know!"
She straightened up to face Blake. She had chosen her position, and Blake
was standing clear and unshadowed in the starlight half a dozen paces
from her. She had thrust her hood back a little, inspired by her feminine
instinct to let him see her contempt for him.
"You beast!"
The words hissed hot and furious from her lips, and in that same instant
Blake found himself staring straight into the unquivering muzzle of her
revolver.
"You beast!" she repeated. "I ought to kill you. I ought to shoot you
down where you stand, for you are a cur and a coward. I know what you
have planned. I followed you when you went to Rydal's cabin a little
while ago, and I heard everything that passed between you. Listen, Peter,
and I'll tell you what these brutes were going to do with us. You were to
go with the six-dog team and I with the five, and out on the barrens we
were to become separated, you to go on and be killed when you we're a
proper distance away, and I to be brought back--to Rydal. Do you
understand, Peter dear? Isn't it splendid that we should have forced on
us like this such wonderful material for a story!"
She was gloriously unafraid now. A paean of triumph rang in her voice,
triumph, contempt, and utter fearlessness. Her mittened hand pressed on
Peter's shoulder, and before the weapon in her other hand Blake stood as
if turned into stone.
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