"This is why I will not go back," he cried softly. "It is because
I love you--love you--"
He caught himself, choking back the words, and as she drew away from him
her eyes shone with a glory that made him half reach out his arms
to her.
"You will forgive me!" he begged. "I do not mean to do wrong. Only, you
must know why I shall not go back into the South."
From her distance she saw his arms stretched like shadows toward her.
Her voice was low, so low that he could hardly hear the words she spoke,
but its sweetness thrilled him.
"If you love me you will do this thing for me. You will go to-morrow."
"And you?"
"I?" He heard the tremulous quiver in her voice. "Very soon you will
forget that you have--ever--seen--me."
From down the path there came the sound of low voices. Excitedly the
girl ran to Howland, thrusting him back with her hands.
"Go! Go!" she cried tensely. "Hurry back to the cabin! Lock your
door--and don't come out again to-night! Oh, please, if you love me,
please, go--"
The voices were approaching. Howland fancied that he could distinguish
dark shadows between the thinned walls of the forest. He laughed softly.
"I am not going to run, little girl," he whispered.
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