"I have my own horse," she said quietly.
"You had, miss; you haven't now. It was a part of what I heard. They've driven your horse away and all the others."
"Oh, nonsense!" she exclaimed.
"It's true," he answered earnestly. "I wouldn't tell you what isn't true. It was young Dickson said it. Do you know where he is now? He's at my place, he, and a mate of his, badly knocked about. There's another one somewhere—and he's the one I've got out ahead of, it seems. But there, look at the smoke rolling in! Come on, or we'll never get through," he added excitedly, pointing up to the smoke which was drifting rapidly over the house.
Ailleen glanced up and saw it. The fire was evidently coming down rapidly.
"I must tell Mrs. Dickson," she exclaimed, and turned away, running quickly along the verandah from the corner.
Slaughter climbed on to the verandah and followed her. As he turned the corner where Mrs. Dickson was sitting he started back with a cry.
"Kate Blair, by the living God!" he shouted, his face turning livid under the fury of rage that swept over him as he saw and recognized the woman who had ruined his life.
The sound of his voice and the name that was uttered made Mrs. Dickson start to her feet, her sightless eyes staring straight at the face of the man before her, her face pale to the lips, and her hands, quivering with excitement, held out in front of her.
"Who are you?" she gasped. "Who are you to speak like that?"