It was then that strength returned to her, and she sprang up, crying wildly, every pulse alert and pricking her to action.  She fled across the room, instinctively seeking the light, stumbled on the threshold, and fell headlong into the arms of a man who stood just beyond.  They closed upon her instantly, supporting her.  She lay, gasping hysterically, against his breast.

“Easy!  Easy!” he said.  “Did I startle you?”

It was Burke’s voice, very deep and low.  She felt the steady beat of his heart as he held her.

Her senses returned to her and with them an overwhelming embarrassment that made her swiftly withdraw herself from him.  He let her go, and she retreated into the darkness behind her.

“What is it, partner?” he said gently.  “You’ve nothing to be afraid of.”

There was no reproach in his voice, yet something within reproached her instantly.  She put on slippers and dressing-gown and went back to him.

“I’ve had a stupid dream,” she said.  “I expect I heard your horse outside.  So—­you have come back alone!”

“He has gone back to his own cabin,” Burke said.

“Burke!” She looked at him with startled, reproachful eyes.  Her hair lay in a fiery cloud about her shoulders, and fire burned in her gaze as she faced him.

He made a curious gesture as if he restrained some urging impulse, not speaking for a moment.  When his voice came again it sounded cold, with an odd note of defiance.  “I’ve done my best.”

She still looked at him searchingly.  “Why wouldn’t he come here?” she said.

He turned from her with a movement that almost seemed to indicate impatience “He preferred not to.  There isn’t much accommodation here.  Besides, he can very well fend for himself.  He’s used to it.”

“I have been preparing for him all day,” Sylvia said.  She looked at him anxiously, struck by something unusual in his pose, and noted for the first time a wide strip of plaster on one side of his chin.  “Is all well?” she questioned.  “How have you hurt your face?”

He did not look at her.  “Yes, all’s well,” he said.  “I cut myself—­shaving.  You go back to bed!  I’m going to refresh before I turn in.”

Sylvia turned to a cupboard in the room where she had placed some eatables before retiring.  She felt chill with foreboding.  What was it that Burke was hiding behind that curt manner?  She was sure there was something.

“What will Guy do for refreshment?” she said, as she set dishes and plates upon the table.

“He’ll have some tinned stuff in that shanty of his,” said Burke.

She turned from the table with abrupt resolution.  “Have something to eat, partner,” she said, “and then tell me all about it!”

She looked for the sudden gleam of his smile, but she looked in vain.  He regarded her, indeed, but it was with sombre eyes.

“You go back to bed!” he reiterated.  “There is no necessity for you to stay up.  You can see him for yourself in the morning.”