“And yours, Pierre?”
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because there are people. Hurry. Now here, with just the trees around us—”
And he tore off his mask.
The white, cold moon shone over them, slipping down between the dark tops of the trees, and the wind stirred slowly through the branches with a faint, hushing sound, as if once more a warning were coming to Pierre this night. He looked up, his left hand at the cross.
“Look down. You are afraid of something, Pierre. What is it?”
“With your arms around my neck, there's nothing in the world I fear. I never dreamed I could love anything more than the little girl who lay in the snow, and died there that night.”
“And I never dreamed I could smile at any man except the boy who lay by me that night. And he died.”
“What miracle saved you?”
She said: “It was wonderful, and yet very simple. You remember how the tree crushed me down into the snow? Well, when the landslide moved, it carried the tree before it; the weight of the trunk was lifted from me. Perhaps it was a rock that struck me over the head then, for I lost consciousness. The slide didn't bury me, but the rush carried me before it like a stick before a wave, you see.
“When I woke I was almost completely covered with a blanket of debris, but I could move my arms, and managed to prop myself up in a sitting posture. It was there that my father and his searching party found me; he had been combing that district all night. They carried me back, terribly bruised, but without even a bone broken. It was a miracle that I escaped, and the miracle must have been worked by your cross; do you remember?”
He shuddered. “The cross—for every good fortune it has brought me, it has brought bad luck to others. I'll throw it away, now—and then—no, it makes no difference. We are done for.”
“Pierre!”
“Don't you see, Mary, or are you still blind as I was ever since I saw you tonight? It's all in that name— Pierre.”
“There's nothing in it, Pierre, that I don't love.”
His head was bowed as if with the weight of the words which he foresaw. “You have heard of the wild men of the mountains, and the long-riders?”
He knew that she nodded, though she could not speak.
“I am Red Pierre.”
“
“Yes.”
Yet he had the courage to raise his head and watch her shrink with horror. It was only an instant. Then she was beside him again, and one arm around him, while she turned her head and glanced fearfully back at the lighted schoolhouse. The faint music mocked them.
“And you dared to come to the dance? We must go. Look, there are horses! We'll ride off into the mountains, and they'll never find us—we'll—”
“Hush! One day's riding would kill you—riding as I ride.”
“I'm strong—very strong, and the love of you, Pierre, will give me more strength. But quickly, for if they knew you, every man in that place would come armed and ready to kill. I know, for I've heard them talk. Tell me, are one-half of all the terrible things they say—”
“They are true, I guess.”
“I won't think of them. Whatever you've done, it was not you, but some devil that forced you on. Pierre, I love you more than ever. Will you go East with me, and home? We will lose ourselves in New York. The millions of the crowd will hide us.”
“Mary, there are some men from whom even the night can't hide me. If they were blind their hate would give them eyes to find me.”
“Pierre, you are not turning away from me—Pierre—There's some ghost of a chance for us. Will you take that chance and come with me?”
He thought of many things, but what he answered was: “I will.” “Then let's go at once. The railroad—”
“Not that way. No one in that house suspects me now. We'll go back and put on our masks again, and—hush. What's there?”
“Nothing.”
“There is—a man's step.”
And she, seeing the look on his face, covered her eyes in horror. When she looked up a great form was looming through the dark, and then the voice of Wilbur came, hard and cold.
“I've looked everywhere for you. Miss Brown, they are anxious about you in the schoolhouse. Will you go back?”
“No—I—”
But Pierre commanded: “Go back.”
So she turned, and he ordered again: “I think our friend has something to say to me. You can find your way
