“I’m very sorry,” repeated the woman, her lips quivering.

“They are the scavengers of the wood,” he continued in a lighter tone; “if you stay here you must try to use them to keep your house clean.”

Teresa smiled nervously.

“I mean that they shall finish their work to-night,” he added, “and I shall build another camp-fire for us a mile from here until they do.”

But Teresa caught his sleeve.

“No,” she said hurriedly, “don’t, please, for me.  You must not take the trouble, nor the risk.  Hear me; do, please.  I can bear it, I will bear it—­to-night.  I would have borne it last night, but it was so strange—­and”—­she passed her hands over her forehead—­“I think I must have been half mad.  But I am not so foolish now.”

She seemed so broken and despondent that he replied reassuringly:  “Perhaps it would be better that I should find another hiding-place for you, until I can dispose of that carcass so that it will not draw dogs after the wolves, and men after them.  Besides, your friend the sheriff will probably remember the bear when he remembers anything, and try to get on its track again.”

“He’s a conceited fool,” broke in Teresa in a high voice, with a slight return of her old fury, “or he’d have guessed where that shot came from; and,” she added in a lower tone, looking down at her limp and nerveless fingers, “he wouldn’t have let a poor, weak, nervous wretch like me get away.”

“But his deputy may put two and two together, and connect your escape with it.”

Teresa’s eyes flashed.  “It would be like the dog, just to save his pride, to swear it was an ambush of my friends, and that he was overpowered by numbers.  Oh yes!  I see it all!” she almost screamed, lashing herself into a rage at the bare contemplation of this diminution of her glory.  “That’s the dirty lie he tells everywhere, and is telling now.”

She stamped her feet and glanced savagely around, as if at any risk to proclaim the falsehood.  Low turned his impassive, truthful face towards her.

“Sheriff Dunn,” he began gravely, “is a politician, and a fool when he takes to the trail as a hunter of man or beast.  But he is not a coward nor a liar.  Your chances would be better if he were—­if he laid your escape to an ambush of your friends, than if his pride held you alone responsible.”

“If he’s such a good man, why do you hesitate?” she replied bitterly.  “Why don’t you give me up at once, and do a service to one of your friends?”

“I do not even know him,” returned Low opening his clear eyes upon her.  “I’ve promised to hide you here, and I shall hide you as well from him as from anybody.”

Teresa did not reply, but suddenly dropping down upon the ground buried her face in her hands and began to sob convulsively.  Low turned impassively away, and putting aside the bark curtain climbed into the hollow tree.  In a few moments he reappeared, laden with provisions and a few simple cooking utensils, and touched her lightly on the shoulder.  She looked up timidly; the paroxysm had passed, but her lashes yet glittered.