"I shall be on hand, and early at that," Dane replied.
With another fleeting glance toward the girl, he turned and moved swiftly away toward the lake back in the hills.
CHAPTER IV
THE WARNING
Dane walked as in a dream along the trail to the lake. Something had come into his life during the last half hour which had wrought a subtle mystic change. He did not try to analyse it, as he had never experienced such a feeling before. He only knew that back there where the land slopes to the harbour he had beheld a vision which had thrilled his entire being. The face and form of the girl with the large questioning eyes were all that he saw as he hurried on his way. Everything else was blotted from his mind, even the urgency of his important mission. The spirit of the wild was upon him, and an overmastering impulse was surging through his heart. He must see her again; he must look upon her face; he must hear her speak. His passion was intense. It was a living fire, the ardour of a great first love.
The Indian noted the change which had come over his master, and wondered. He made no comment, however, as he squatted upon the ground, slowly turning a wooden spit on which a fat duck was roasting over a small fire. Dane sat down upon a log, with his eyes upon Pete, although in fact he was hardly aware what he was doing, for his thoughts were elsewhere.
When the duck was at last cooked, the Indian divided it, and gave half to Dane.
"Fine bird, dat," he remarked. "Me shoot him on wing. Taste good, eh?"
"Does it?" Dane asked, rousing for a minute from his reverie. He then relapsed into silence.
"What de matter?" Pete presently asked. "See sometin', eh?"