Miss Mackall fell half fainting against a tree.
The figure came closer to her, and she saw that it was a woman. A horrible prescience of what was coming still further demoralized her. Women do not require explanations in words. Miss Mackall recognized the adventuress of Musquasepi, and knew what she had come for. She sought to temporize.
"I want kill you," said Bela softly. "My finger is hungry for the trigger."
She moved slightly, and a spot of light caught the barrel of the rifle over her arm. Miss Mackall moaned again.
"You know," replied Bela grimly. "You tried tak' my man."
"How r-ridiculous!" stuttered Miss Mackall. "He isn't yours."
"Maybe," returned Bela. "Not yet. But no ot'er woman goin' get him from me."
"Want you!" cried Bela scornfully. "An old woman! You try catch him lak he a fish!"
Miss Mackall broke into a low, hysterical weeping.
"Shut up!" said Bela. "Listen to w'at I say."
"Let me go! Let me go!" wept the other woman. "I'll scream!"
"No, you won't," said Bela coolly. "You not want Gilbert Beattie know you run out at night."
"I won't be murdered in cold blood! I won't! I won't!"
"Shut up!" said Bela. "I not goin' kill you jus' yet. Not if you do what I want."
Miss Mackall stopped weeping. "What do you want?" she asked eagerly.
"You got go 'way from here," said Bela coolly.
"Bishop Lajeunesse goin' back down lake day after to-morrow. If you here after he gone I kill you."
A little assurance began to return to Miss Mackall. After all, it was not a supernatural, but a very human enemy with whom she had to deal.
"Are you crazy?" she demanded with quavering dignity.
"Yes," replied Bela calmly. "So they say."
"Oh!" sneered Miss Mackall. "Do you think I shall pay any attention to your threats? I have only to speak a word to my brother-in-law and you will be arrested."
"They got catch me first," said Bela. "No white man can follow me in the bush. I go where I want. Always I will follow you--wit' my gun."
The white woman's voice broke again. "If anything happened to me, you'd be tried and hung for murder!"
"What do a crazy woman care for that?" asked Bela.
Bela suddenly stepped aside. "Run home!" she said contemptuously. "Better pack your trunk."
Miss Mackall's legs suddenly recovered their function, and she sped up the trail like a released arrow. Never in her life had she run so fast. She fell into her room panting and trembling, and offered up a little prayer of thankfulness for the security of four walls and a locked door.