“DRAZK!”
“Yes. I thought I had killed him that day of the fire. It is rather an unpleasant story, and you will excuse me repeating the details, I know. He attacked me—we were both on horseback, in the river—I suppose he was crazed with his wild deed, and less responsible than usual. He dragged me from my horse and I fought with him in the water, but he was much too strong. I had concluded that to drown myself, and perhaps him, was the only way out, when I saw a leather thong floating in the water from the saddle. By a ruse I managed to flip it around his neck, and the next moment he was at my mercy. I had no mercy then. I understand how it might be possible to kill prisoners. I pulled it tight, tight—pulled till I saw his face blacken and his eyes stand out. He went down, but still I pulled. And then after a little I found myself on shore.
“I suppose it was the excitement of the fire that carried me on through the day, but at night—you remember?—there came a reaction, and I couldn’t keep awake. I suddenly seemed to feel that I was safe, and I could sleep.”
Grant had resumed his seat. He was deeply moved by this strange confidence; he bent his eyes intently upon her face, now shining in the ruddy light from the fire-place. Her frank reference to the event that night seemed to create a new bond between them; he knew now, if ever he had doubted it, that Zen Transley had treasured that incident in her heart even as he had treasured it.
“I was so embarrassed after the—the accident, you know,” she continued. “I knew you must know I had been in the water. For days and weeks I expected every hour to hear of the finding of the body. I expected to hear the remark dropped casually by every new visitor at the ranch, ‘Drazk’s body was found to-day in the river. The Mounted Police are investigating.’ But time went on and nothing was heard of it. It would almost have been a relief to me if it had been discovered. If I had reported the affair at once, as I should have done, all would have been different, but having kept my secret for a while I found it impossible to confess it later. It was the first time I ever felt my self-reliance severely shaken.... But what was his message, and why did you not tell me before?”
“Because I attached no value to it; because I was, perhaps, a little ashamed of it. I learned something of his weaknesses at the Front. According to Drazk’s statement of it he won the war, and could as easily win another, if occasion presented itself, so when he said, ‘If ever you see Y.D.‘s daughter tell her I’m well; she’ll be glad to hear it,’ I put it down to his usual boasting and thought no more about it. I thought he was trying to impress me with the idea that you were interested in him, which was a very absurd supposition, as I saw it.”
“Well, now you know,” she said, with a little laugh. “I’m glad it’s off my mind.”
“Of course your husband knows?”
“No. That made it harder. I never told Frank.”
She arose and walked to the fire-place, pretending to stir the logs. When she had seated herself again she continued.