Night was now coming swiftly from the hills.
Ellen turned to pass back toward the door. "Your pardon!" I exclaimed to Grace Sheraton, and sprang after Ellen.
"Good-by," I said, and held out my hand to her. "Let us end all these heroics, and do our best. Where is your husband? I want to congratulate him."
"My husband!" she said in wonder. "What do you mean?"
Night, I say, was dropping quickly, like a shroud spread by a mighty hand.
"Belknap—" I began.
"Ah," she said bitterly. "You rate me low—as low as I do you!"
"But your father told me himself you two were to be married," I broke out, surprise, wonder, dread, rebellion now in every fiber of my body and soul.
"My father loves me dearly," she replied slowly. "But he cannot marry me until I wish. No, I am not married, and I never will be. Good-by."
Again I heard my own horrible laughter.