And then, from far out in the white glory of the night, there came back to him the voice of the girl he loved.

“Good-by—­Good-by—­”

CHAPTER XII

MARION FREED FROM BONDAGE

“Gone!” moaned Winnsome again.  “She has gone—­back—­to—­Strang!”

Neil was crawling to them like a wounded animal across the sand.

She started toward him but Nathaniel stopped her.

“She is the king’s—­wife—­”

His throat was swollen so that he could hardly speak.

“No.  They are to be married to-night.  Oh, I thought she was going to stay!” She tore herself away from him to go to Neil, who had fallen upon his face exhausted, a dozen yards away.

In the wet sand, where the incoming waves lapped his hands and feet, Nathaniel sank down, his eyes staring out into the shimmering distance where Marion had gone.  His brain was in a daze, and he wondered if he had been stricken by some strange madness—­if this all was but some passing phantasm that would soon leave him again to his misery and his despair.  But the dash of the cold water against him cleared away his doubt.  Marion had come to him.  She had saved him from death.  And now she was gone.

And she was not the king’s wife!

He staggered to his feet again and plunged into the lake until the water reached to his waist, calling her name, entreating her in weak, half choked cries to come back to him.  The water soaked through to his hot, numb body, restoring his reason and strength, and he buried his face in it and drank like one who had been near to dying of thirst.  Then he returned to Neil.  Winnsome was holding his head in her arms.

He dropped upon his knees beside them and saw that life was returning full and strong in Neil’s face.

“You will be able to walk in a few minutes,” he said.  “You and Winnsome must leave here.  We are on the mainland and if you follow the shore northward you will come to the settlements.  I am going back for Marion.”

Neil made an effort to follow him as he rose to his feet.

“Nat—­Nat—­wait—­”

Winnsome held him back, frightened, tightening her arms about him.

“You must go with Winnsome,” urged Nathaniel, seizing the hand that Neil stretched up to him.  “You must take her to the first settlement up the coast.  I will come back to you with Marion.”

He spoke confidently, as a man who sees his way open clearly before him, and yet as he turned, half running, to the low black shadow of the distant forest he knew that he was beginning a blind fight against fate.  If he could find a hunter’s cabin, a fisherman’s shanty—­a boat!

Barely had he disappeared when a voice called to him.  It was Winnsome.  The girl ran up to him holding something in her hand.  It was a pistol.  “You may need it!” she exclaimed.  “We brought two!”