"Not till the day, sweet sir," smiled the scoundrel. "My men are all about, and there is no danger of your two or three eager friends inflicting any more damage. I do not quite understand how you got in here, unless you were hunting—no, that could not be either."
He fell to musing, staring at me, whereat I laughed harshly.
"It was no hand of man led us here, Gib o' Clarclach, make sure of that."
"Then we will even ascribe it to the foul fiend," and he got to his feet. "Good-even for the last time, mistress!"
When he had gone we sat silent, all three. Presently the Cree woman fell asleep in her corner and the fire slowly died down to a dim red glow, while Ruth and I sat hand in hand. On the morrow, it seemed like, I would go forth and bargain for my worthless skin, leaving her in the hands of our enemies. Bitterly I cursed myself for a faint-heart, though I knew full well that ere long Uchichak and his warriors would turn the tide of affairs.
The long hours passed, and still I sat sleepless, Ruth having fallen half into slumber, her head resting against my shoulder. I was staring at the skin wall of the lodge, where it was lashed into the brush beyond, and was dreaming again of that terrible voyage and of its ending, when I started suddenly. The glow of the embers had seemed to strike a spark from the wall—a tiny point of light that moved across the skin!
In a moment I knew it was a knife-blade slitting the tough hide, whereat I brought Ruth wide awake. The skin seemed to fall apart in silence, and through it glared a horrible painted mask and staring eyes. Ruth clutched my arm, in fright, but a whisper came from the darkness.
"Brave Eyes! Come swiftly!" And I knew it for the voice of The Keeper.