"Then there is nothing more to be said," replied Livingston, turning away from her. "We will not wait for the sunrise. I will go now." He walked from her with long strides.
"Wait," she cried in absolute terror. "Wait! Oh, you wouldn't be so rude as to leave me here—alone!" He stopped short, his back still toward her. "Please come back!" she begged, approaching him, "I should die of fright!" Somehow she reminded herself of Clarice. "Surely you will walk back to camp with me!"
"Yes, certainly, pardon me," he replied huskily.
As they turned, a horse came slowly toward them. Hope gave a little nervous exclamation.
"Your horse," said Livingston, reaching for the bridle. "I thought you walked."
"No—yes," replied the girl. "I walked up the hill. The horse must have followed. We will walk down and lead it. It's too steep to ride down."
But Livingston had stopped short beside the animal, his head bowed, almost upon the saddle.
"Come, shall we go?" asked the girl nervously.
Suddenly the man turned to her, sternness expressed in every line of his figure.
"Where have you been?" he commanded.