"No, no!" was the startled reply. "That would be terrible!"

"But he tried to harm you. If I kill him, he won't have a chance to try again."

"Let him go," the girl pleaded. "Perhaps this will teach him a lesson."

Dane, however, hesitated. A pa.s.sionate impulse urged him to make an end of such a cowardly creature. The spirit of the wild was strong upon him, and his nature craved complete satisfaction. How could it be otherwise? Steeped for years in the ways of the wilderness, he had become a part of all that he had seen and heard. He knew how the beasts of the forest and the monarchs of the air dealt with their prey.

He had at times watched two great bull moose locked in deadly combat, until one had gone down to defeat and death. And around campfires at night he had listened to rough men as they related tales of terrible fights, grewsome murders, and sudden deaths. Everywhere he turned it was the same savage struggle, with only one outcome, the survival of the strongest, and death to the vanquished.

While he thus sat upon the fallen man's body, reasoning with himself what to do, the girl touched him lightly upon the arm.

"Let him go," she urged. "You wouldn't kill a man when he is down, would you? That would be cowardly."

This appeal had an immediate effect, and slowly, though somewhat reluctantly, Dane rose to his feet.

"He deserves to be killed," he growled. Then he touched the man with the toe of his right foot. "Get up, you brute," he ordered.

This command was at once obeyed. The defeated a.s.sailant scrambled to his feet, and started to move away. But Dane caught him roughly by the arm, and faced him sharply around.

"Just a word," he began. "You get clear this time, you devil, whoever you are. But if you lay hands on this young woman again I'll break every bone in your body. You won't escape, for I am Dane Norwood, the King's Arrow, and what I say I mean. Get out of this now as fast as you can."

The next instant the man was gone, swallowed up by the darkness.

"Oh, how can I ever thank you enough?" the girl impulsively asked.

"You have saved me from that creature. I didn't know that he was here."

"Who is he?" Dane asked. "And where did he come from?"

"He is Seth Lupin, a man I hate and fear. He must have come on one of the other vessels, most likely as a stowaway. He is not a Loyalist, for he was a coward during the war, and has no right to be numbered among us. I am sure that daddy does not know he is here, and I am almost afraid to tell him for fear he might do something desperate to the villain. But, then, we shall soon be away from this place, so it is hardly likely that Seth will follow us."

They were walking slowly now, picking their way with difficulty across the rough hillside. Dane's soul was athrill in the presence of this girl who had affected him in such a wonderful manner. It was almost too good to be true that he had rescued her, and was now so close to her.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Up river, I believe. But just where I do not know. Daddy hasn't drawn his lot of land yet."

"What is your name?"

"Jean."

"I like it. But Jean what?"

"Sterling."

"Did you ever live in the woods?"

"No. This is my first experience."

"Do you think you will like it? Won't you be afraid?"

"I am going to do my best to like it. And why should I be afraid?"

"Because of men, especially the slashers; that's why."

"Who are the slashers?"

"Rebels who oppose the King's men in cutting masts. They wander everywhere, slashing as they go, and ruining the forests."

"But why should I be afraid of them? They have never heard of me."

"But they will soon hear of you, though." Dane stopped abruptly, and laid his hand upon her arm. "Say, do you know how beautiful you are?"

Jean was somewhat startled by this strange question.

"What makes you ask that?"

"Because if you don't know, then you are not aware of your danger.

That villain, Lupin, knows of your beauty, so he followed you here.

The slashers and others will soon know, too, and I might not always be on hand. This is just a friendly warning."

Jean's heart was beating rapidly, while the darkness hid her flushed face.

"T-thank you," she stammered. "I think I understand your meaning, although I am not used to such plain words, especially from a stranger.

But I feel I can trust you."

"In a country such as this we use plain language, Miss Sterling. I have warned you of your danger because I am deeply interested in your welfare. You can trust me, for, thank G.o.d, I have had a n.o.ble mother's training, and was taught to respect women. But, we are almost at your home, so I must leave you."

"Forgive me," Jean begged, as Dane was about to hurry away. "I appreciate what you have told me and done for me to-night, I shall always remember your kindness, and I hope to see you again."

"I hope so, too, and soon at that," was the fervent reply.

Dane hardly knew how he reached the lake. He felt that he had made a fool of himself. Never before had he spoken to a girl in such a straightforward manner. What must she think of him?

"I could not help it," he told himself. "She needed to be warned. She doesn't realise her danger. She can't surely know how beautiful she is."

CHAPTER V

"TRY IT"

The early morning sun, slanting in through a small window, found Major Studholme seated at his table lost in deep thought. The letter Dane had brought was lying open before him. Occasionally he glanced toward it, and each time his brow knitted in perplexity. At length he rose and paced rapidly up and down the room. With the exception of the table and a few stools this office was dest.i.tute of any furniture. It was as bleak as the hill upon which Fort Howe was situated. Here the men of the garrison received their orders, and it was here that the Major interviewed visitors from Portland Point, and couriers from all sections of the country. This commanding officer was the same to all men, so the humblest workman in the trading company's employ, or the uncouth native from the heart of the wilderness received just as much attention as men of high rank. Stern and unbending in the line of duty, Major Studholme realised the importance of his position, and that as a superior officer in the service of his King he must render even-handed justice, irrespective of color or rank. A sharp rat-tat-tat upon the door startled him.

"Come in," he called.

At once the door swung open, and a stalwart, st.u.r.dy man entered, carrying a stout stick in his hand which he used as a cane.

"Ah, good morning, Mr. Simonds," the Major accosted, his face brightening with pleasure and relief as he held out his hand. "I didn't expect you so early."