he was grown too weak to inflict violent pain, the man lied
malevolently, gloating over what he saw in the trader's face.

"Never mind, old man, I'll bring her back," said Burrell, and laid a
comforting hand on Gale's shoulder, for the fact that she was safe,
the fact of knowing something relieved him immensely; but Stark's
next words plunged him into even blacker horror than the trader
felt.

"You won't want her if you catch her. Runnion will see to that."

"Runnion!"

"Yes, I sent him with her."

The lover cried out in anguish, and hid his face in his hands.

"He's wanted her for a long time, so I told him to go ahead--"

None of them noticed Poleon Doret, who, upon this unnatural
confession, alone seemed to retain sufficient control to doubt and
to reason. He was thinking hard, straightening out certain facts,
and trying to square this horrible statement with things he had seen
and heard to-night. All of a sudden he uttered a great cry, and
bolted out into the darkness unheeded by Gale and Burrell, who stood
dazed and distraught with a fear greater than that which was growing
in Stark at sight of his wounds.

The gambler looked down at his injuries, opened and closed the
fingers of his hand as if to see whether he still maintained control