She found Donnegan’s shack and the one next to it, which the terrible colonel occupied, entirely dark, but only a moment after she tapped at the door it was opened.  Donnegan, fully dressed, stood in the entrance, outlined blackly by the light which came faintly from the hooded lantern hanging on the wall.  Was he sitting up all the night, unable to sleep because he waited breathlessly for that false tryst on the morrow?  A great tenderness came over the heart of Nelly Lebrun.

“It is I,” she whispered.

There was a soft exclamation, then she was drawn into the room.

“Is there anyone here?”

“Only big George.  But he’s in the kitchen and he won’t hear.  He never hears anything except what’s meant for his ear.  Take this chair!”

He was putting a blanket over the rough wood to make it more comfortable, and she submitted dumbly to his ministrations.  It seemed terrible and strange to her that one so gentle should be the object of so much hate—­such deadly hate as the members of Nick’s gang felt for him.  And now that he was sitting before her she could see that he had indeed been wakeful for a long time.  His face was grimly wasted; the lips were compressed as one who has endured long pain; and his eyes gleamed at her out of a profound shadow.  He remained in the gloom; the light from the lantern fell brightly upon his hands alone—­meager, fleshless hands which seemed to represent hardly more strength than that of a child.  Truly this man was all a creature of spirit and nerve.  Therein lay his strength, as also his weakness, and again the cherishing instinct grew strong and swept over her.

“There is no one near,” he said, “except the colonel and his daughter.  They are up the hillside, somewhere.  Did you see them?”

“No.  What in the world are they out for at this time of night?”

“Because the colonel only wakes up when the sun goes down.  And now he’s out there humming to himself and never speaking a word to the girl.  But they won’t be far away.  They’ll stay close to see that no one comes near the cabin to get at Landis.”

He added:  “They must have seen you come into my cabin!”

And his lips set even harder than before.  Was it fear because of her?

“They may have seen me enter, but they won’t know who it was.  You have the note from me?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a lie!  It’s a ruse.  I was forced to write it to save you!  For they’re planning to murder you.  Oh, my dear!”

“Hush!  Hush!  Murder?”

“I’ve been nearly hysterical all day and all the night.  But. thank heaven, I’m here to warn you in time!  You mustn’t go.  You mustn’t go!”

“Who is it?”

He had drawn his chair closer:  he had taken her hands, and she noted that his own were icy cold, but steady as a rock.  Their pressure soothed her infinitely.

“Joe Rix, the Pedlar, Harry Masters.  They’ll be at the shack at ten o’clock, but not I!”