"Yes," he answered quickly, and gave her a hurried account of his own thought upon the matter. "If I am right no harm will befall you. And we must go. It is time. Look!"
A little tongue of flame was creeping through the joining of the logs at one end of the cabin, and the logs where the bunk had been were beginning to crackle and hiss ominously. The smoke had grown thicker, and the atmosphere was pungent and choking in its quality. He left her side for a moment, and returned with her furs.
"You must put them on," he said, "or you will freeze outside."
He himself had slipped on his own furs, and when he had helped her into hers, he took his rifle and nodded towards the pistol which she still held.
"You need not use it—outside," he said. "Keep it for—for eventualities. You understand?"
"I understand," she answered calmly, knowing that in the last resource she was to do what many women of her race had done before her.
"I will go first," he said. "And you must wait a full minute before emerging. I shall try and make for the woods at the back, and if I get clear you shall follow me—you understand?"
"Oh my man! my man!" she cried in a shaking voice, knowing that though he spoke lightly, he had little hope of escape.
Not knowing what to say, or how to comfort her, Stane took her in his arms again, and kissed her, then for a moment he stood listening. Outside all was still or whatever sounds there were were drowned by the increasing roar and crackle of the fire.
"Now!" he said. "Now!"