"No; I'm not content! But as I seem to be helpless, the fools who can only judge by appearances and the others who are quick to think the worst of me must believe what they like. Anyway, their opinion doesn't count for much."

"How can people judge except by appearances?" Muriel argued. "Besides, do you divide everybody you know into those two cla.s.ses?"

He looked hard at her and, to her annoyance, she grew confused.

"No," he said slowly; "that would be very wrong--I was too quick. There are a few with generous minds who haven't turned against me and I'm very grateful."

"It might have been enough if you had said they had sense; but don't you feel you owe them something? Is it fair to keep silence and do nothing while they fight your battle?"

"Are there people who are doing so?"

"Yes," Muriel answered steadily. "You oughtn't to doubt it. You're wronging your friends."

His expression betokened a strong effort at self-control.

"Well," he said, "it seems I have a duty to them, but how I'm to get about it is more than I know."

"Have you thought of telling the police about your journey to British Columbia and what you learned about Cyril Jernyngham?"

"I'm afraid they wouldn't believe me. Then there's the trouble that the man I followed called himself Kermode."

"Never mind. Tell them; tell everybody you know."

"It would be useless," Prescott said doggedly.

"You're wrong," Muriel persisted. "When a thing is talked about enough, people begin to believe it. Besides, it would give your supporters an argument against the doubtful. I'm afraid they need one after the finding of the clothes."

"The clothes? What clothes?"

Muriel's faith in Prescott had never been shaken, but his surprise caused her keen satisfaction, and she told him all she knew about Jernyngham's discovery.

"Still, I don't see what finding them there could signify," he said when she had finished.

"Then you don't know that a day or two after Cyril Jernyngham disappeared, a man dressed in clothes like those found, sold some land of his at a place called Navarino?"

Prescott started.

"It's the first I've heard of it. There's some villainy here; the things must have been hidden near my house with the object of strengthening suspicion against me!"

"Of course! But you can't think that Jernyngham had a hand in it?"

"Oh, no! The man is trying to ruin me, but that kind of meanness isn't in his line. Perhaps I'd better say that I never had clothes like those and that I sold no land of Cyril's."

"Mr. Prescott," Muriel murmured shyly, "it isn't necessary to tell me this; I never doubted it."

"Thank you," he answered shortly, but there was trouble in his voice and the girl thought she knew what his reticence cost.

"Well," she said, "you will tell other people this and go to see Corporal Curtis? You agreed that women have some power here, and, even if you're not convinced, you will do what I ask because I wish it?"

"You have my promise."

He walked toward the window and stood looking out for a moment or two before he turned to her again.

"Don't you think you had better start for home? The moon looks hazy. May I drive out with you?"

Muriel had shrunk from the long journey in the dark, and she readily agreed.

"I'll tell them to bring your team round," he said, moving toward the door. "Get off as soon as you're ready, and I'll come along when I've collected a few things I bought."

The girl let him go, appreciating his consideration, for she guessed his thoughts. He was under suspicion and would give the tatlers in the town nothing on which to base conjectures. It hurt her pride, however, to admit that such precautions had better be taken.

Leaving the hotel, she found the trail smooth when she had crossed the track, but after she pa.s.sed the last of the fences the waste looked very dreary. The moon was dimmed by thin, driving clouds, and the deep silence grew depressing; the loneliness weighed on her, and she began to listen eagerly for the beat of hoofs. For a time she heard nothing and she had grown angry with Prescott for delaying when a measured drumming stole out of the distance and her feeling of cheerfulness and security returned.

Its significance was not lost on her: she was learning to depend on the man, to long for his society. Then, for no obvious reason, she urged the team and kept ahead for a while. When he came up with an explanation about a missing package, she laughed half-mockingly, and on the whole felt glad that the narrowness of the trail, which compelled him to follow, made conversation difficult.

An hour after she left the settlement the moon was hidden and fine snow began to fall. It grew thicker, gradually covering the trail, until Muriel had some difficulty in distinguishing it. The sleigh was running heavily, and after a while Prescott told her to stop.

"I'll go ahead, and then you can follow my buggy," he said. "There won't be much snow."

Muriel felt that there was quite enough to have made her very anxious had she been alone, but when he pa.s.sed and took his place in front she drove on in confidence. She remembered that this was not a new feeling. He was a man who could be trusted; one felt safe with him. Now and then she could hardly see the buggy and she was glad of his cheery laugh and the somewhat inconsequent remarks he flung back to her when the haze of driving flakes grew thicker. So far as she could see, the trail now differed in nothing from the rest of the wilderness, but he held on without hesitation, and she felt no surprise when once or twice a belt of trees she remembered loomed up. They made better progress when the snow ceased, and at length Prescott stopped his horse and she saw a faint blink of light some distance off.

"That's Leslie's," he said. "Shall I drive to the house with you?"

"No, that isn't needful, thank you."

"Then I'll wait until I see the door open. I'll look up Curtis in the morning."

Muriel turned off toward the farm, where she found Colston and her sister disturbed by her absence.

"Where have you been?" Mrs. Colston asked. "You have frightened us. Harry would have driven out to look for you if he had known which way to go."

"I went to the settlement. I bought the things we spoke about, and I met Mr. Prescott, who brought me home." Muriel spoke in a tone that discouraged further questions. "Now I'm very cold, Harry, you might shake the snow from those furs."

She left them soon afterward, pleading fatigue, and went to sleep, feeling satisfied with what she had done and knowing that Prescott would keep his promise.

Her confidence was justified, for on the following day he drove over to the police post and found Curtis alone.

"I've come to tell you something and I'll ask you to let me get through before you begin to talk," he said.

Curtis showed no surprise and indicated a chair.

"Sit there and go ahead."

He listened with close attention while Prescott described his journey and recounted all that he had learned about Kermode.

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" Curtis asked.

"I couldn't imagine that you would believe it."