"I must leave you behind."
Edith's eyes dilated with horror, now doubly intensified.
"Don't think for a minute," the hunter hastened to say, "that I intend to desart you. No, no; may the lightning strike me down if I could ever do such a thing. What I mean is, that I must hide you till night, when I'll come back, and we'll go on, taking things comfortably."
"It must be done quickly. Don't wait a minute."
The Rifleman led the way to some thick, dense bushes and without approaching them very closely, signified her to enter them. She did so, with considerable difficulty, and when she had entered and covered away, he could see nothing of her.
"Stay there till I come," said he, "and be careful and not put your head out, if you hear any noise."
"How shall I know whether it is you or not?"
"I'll be around as soon as it is dark enough, and will speak. Don't forget what I said. Don't let any noise make you show yourself. Good-by."
"Good-by;" and the hunter turned to attend to his own safety.
CHAPTER IX.