“No,” said Miss Marley; “after what you’ve said to me to-night I am not inclined to blame him.”

“Well,” said Claire, “I don’t think, if we were to meet again, he would let me go. We may manage this time, but not twice.”

“Are you sure,” asked Miss Marley, gently, “that you will manage this time?”

Claire raised her head and looked at Miss Marley.

“Aren’t you?” she said gravely. “I did feel very sure.”

“I’d feel a great deal surer,” said Miss Marley, “if you didn’t drive down the pass. If you once set off with Winn, do you suppose he’ll stop? I am sure he means to now; in fact, his sending you up here to talk to me proves it. He knows I sha’n’t be much of a help to him in carrying you off. But, my dear, I never knew any Staines stop, once he’d started. As long as he is looking at the consequences for you, he’ll steer clear of them, he’s looking at them now, but a moment will come when he’ll cease to look, and then everything will depend on you. I think your one chance is to say good-by here, and to drive down the pass with Maurice. He can dispose of his party for once.”

The color left Claire’s face, but her eyes never flinched from Miss Marley’s. After a time Miss Marley turned her head away; she could no longer bear the look in Claire’s eyes. It was like watching the face of some one drowning.

“I don’t want a chance!” whispered Claire.