Aldous met her eyes frankly.  He had made up his mind that she would believe only the truth, and he had decided to tell her at least a part of that.  He would lay his whole misadventure to the gold.  Leaning over the pommel of his saddle he recounted the occurrences of the night before, beginning with his search for Quade and the half-breed, and his experience with the woman who rode the bear.  He left out nothing—­except all mention of herself.  He described the events lightly, not omitting those parts which appealed to him as being very near to comedy.

In spite of his effort to rob the affair of its serious aspect his recital had a decided effect upon Joanne.  For some time after he had finished one of her small gloved hands clutched tightly at the pommel of her saddle; her breath came more quickly; the colour had ebbed from her cheeks, and she looked straight ahead, keeping her eyes from meeting his.  He began to believe that in some way she was convinced he had not told her the whole truth, and was possibly displeased, when she again turned her face to him.  It was tense and white.  In it was the fear which, for a few minutes, she had tried to keep from him.

“They would have killed you?” she breathed.

“Perhaps they would only have given me a good scare,” said Aldous.  “But I didn’t have time to wait and find out.  I was very anxious to see MacDonald again.  So I went through the window!”

“No, they would have killed you,” said Joanne.  “Perhaps I did wrong, Mr. Aldous, but I confided—­a little—­in Peggy Blackton last night.  She seemed like a sister.  I love her.  And I wanted to confide in some one—­a woman, like her.  It wasn’t much, but I told her what happened at Miette:  about you, and Quade, and how I saw him at the station, and again—­later, following us.  And then—­she told me!  Perhaps she didn’t know how it was frightening me, but she told me all about these men—­Quade and Culver Rann.  And now I’m more afraid of Culver Rann than Quade, and I’ve never seen him.  They can’t hurt me.  But I’m afraid for you!”

At her words a joy that was like the heat of a fire leaped into his brain.

“For me?” he said.  “Afraid—­for me?”

“Yes.  Why shouldn’t I be, if I know that you are in danger?” she asked quietly.  “And now, since last night, and the discovery of your secret by these men, I am terrified.  Quade has followed you here.  Mrs. Blackton told me that Culver Rann was many times more dangerous than Quade.  Only a little while ago you told me you did not care for riches.  Then why do you go for this gold?  Why do you run the risk?  Why——­”

He waited.  The colour was flooding back into her face in an excited, feverish flush.  Her blue eyes were dark as thunder-clouds in their earnestness.

“Don’t you understand?” she went on.  “It was because of me that you incurred this deadly enmity of Quade’s.  If anything happens to you, I shall hold myself responsible!”