Silently she crept across the room, in breathless terror unlocked the back door of the cabin and looked out. The chill struck her instantly. She glanced doubtfully at her bare feet, then, because she could hardly feel respectable even by starlight no better dressed than one of the angels, she stole to her bedroom for clothes. There panic seized her, so, grabbing up a cloak and a pair of slippers, she fled out into the solitude of the hills. Across the open she ran from cover to cover, from rock to rock, stopping at times, holding her breath as she looked back, lest some crackling twig should betray her. One slipper was lost already in a morass, but she went on, her poor bare foot bleeding with a cut from some stone. Her long hair caught among the branches when she had gained the wood, and all the shadows of the trees were full of awful eyes, of staring spectres, of nameless beasts who would spring out upon her if she looked. Down the long hills she fled, stumbling, falling, tearing her cloak, suffering agonies from thorns and stones, and greater agonies from things unseen. And so the poor child came sobbing to the Tough Nut cabin. The good prospectors would take a message for her; they need not see her, because she would hide, and when she had roused them with her cries would speak to them out of the very deep shadows.
But when she called and called there was no answer; when at last she dared come nearer, creeping up with many a start of sudden fright, she saw a padlock glimmering on the door. The cabin was empty, the prospectors were away.
"Shorty!" she cried. "Oh, Long Leslie, where are you? Help! Help!"
The silence sank down heavily upon the woods, all the spaces of the hills lay in a breathless slumber, from the black sky dead Alps looked down like ghosts, and the stars were so far away.
"What shall I do, dearest? How shall I bring you to me. Oh, my love, my love!"
She sank down sobbing upon the ground, the ground which was all covered with gleaming pine chips left by the miners' axes, the chips which they always used to kindle fires. To kindle fires? She looked up, wiping the tears away with her long hair. They used these scented chips to kindle fires, and she would kindle such a blaze that night that the news of it should go forth all over the valley. Then the Blackguard would come to see what was the matter.
So she set off along the hillside, racked with miserable cold, with bitter pain, the tears dried stiff upon her cheeks, and dragged herself to the mill, the mill which was to be burned in any case. There should be no doubt as to the mill. She opened the lower door, the office door—there upon the table were papers. He had been working there all day—had been very tired—had forgotten this once to put them into the safe. There was a bunch of matches beside them, and on the ground outside bushels of chips to make the fire burn up, and in the corner of the office a five-gallon can of lamp oil. So she piled up her fuel against the outer wall.
That night there was a blaze upon the mountains, the mill and the woods were all afire. So news went out along the valley.