His heart gave a bound of joy, and he darted along the path, holding his rifle ready for instant use.  The trail wound through the tall grass of a dry swamp meadow and, two hundred yards beyond the river, plunged into a forest.  He had barely entered this when he saw the glow of a fire.  It was only a short distance ahead, hidden in a deep hollow that completely concealed its existence from the keenest eyes that might pass along the river.  Stealing cautiously to the crest of the little knoll between him and the light, Philip found himself within fifty feet of a camp.

A big canvas tent was the first thing to come within his vision.  The fire was built against this face of a rock in front of this, and over the fire hovered a man dragging out beds of coals with a forked stick.  Almost at the same moment a second man appeared from the tent, bearing two huge skillets in one hand and a big pot in the other.  At a glance Philip knew that they were preparing to cook a meal, and that it was for many instead of two.  Wildly he searched the firelit spaces and the shadows for a sign of Jeanne.  He saw nothing.  She was not in the camp.  The five or six men who had fled up the river with her were not there.  His fingers dug deep in the earth under him at the discovery, and once more appalling fears overwhelmed him.  Perhaps she had already met her fate a little deeper in the forest.

He crept over the edge of the knoll and worked himself down through the low bush on the opposite side, which would bring him within a dozen feet of the man over the fire.  There he would have them at his mercy, and at the point of his revolver would compel them to tell him where Jeanne had been taken.  The advantage was all in his favor.  It would not be difficult to make them prisoners and leave them secured while he followed after their companions.

He was intent only upon his plan, and did not take his eyes from the men over the fire.  He came to the end of the bush, and crouched with head and shoulders exposed, his revolver in his hand.  Suddenly a sound close to the tent startled him.  It was a low cough.  The men over the fire made no movement to look behind them, but Philip turned.

In the shadow of a tree, which had concealed her until now, sat Jeanne.  She was tense and straight.  Her white face was turned to him.  Her beautiful eyes glowed like stars.  Her lips were parted; he could see her quick, excited breathing.  She saw him!  She knew him!  He could see the joy of hope in her face and that she was crushing back an impulse to cry out to him, even as he was restraining his own mad desire to shout out his defiance and joy.  And there in the firelight, his face illumined, and oblivious for the moment of the presence of the two men, Philip straightened himself and held out his arms with a glad smile to Jeanne.