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lost
confidence.
    Gaining the gate she looked up intending to speak; but was unable to
do so as she saw how cold and grave was his face, and how piercing
were his eyes. She flushed slightly, and then, conscious of an
embarrassment new and strange to her, blushed rosy red, making, as it
seemed to her, a stupid remark about the sunset. When he took her
words literally, and said the sunset was fine, she felt guilty of
deceitfulness. Whatever Helen's faults, and they were many, she was
honest, and because of not having looked at the sunset, but only
wanting him to see her as did other men, the innocent ruse suddenly
appeared mean and trifling.
    Then, with a woman's quick intuition, she understood that coquetries
were lost on this borderman, and, with a smile, got the better of her
embarrassment and humiliation by telling the truth.
    "I wanted to ask a favor of you, and I'm a little afraid."
    She spoke with girlish shyness, which increased as he stared at her.
    "Why—why do you look at me so?"
    "There's a lake over yonder which the Shawnees say is haunted by a
woman they killed," he replied quietly. "You'd do for her spirit, so
white an' beautiful in the silver moonlight."
    "So my white dress makes me look ghostly," she answered lightly,
though deeply conscious of surprise and pleasure at such an unexpected
reply from him. This borderman might be full of surprises. "Such a
time as I had bringing my dresses out here! I don't know when I can
wear them. This is the simplest one."
    "An' it's mighty new an' bewilderin' for the border," he replied with
a smile in his eyes.
    "When these are gone I'll get no more except linsey ones," she said
brightly, yet her eyes shone with a wistful uncertainty of the future.
    "Will you be happy here?"
    "I am happy. I have always wanted to be of some use in the world. I
assure you, Master Zane, I am not the butterfly I seem. I have worked
hard all day, that is, until your sister Betty came over. All the
girls have helped me fix up the cabin until it's more comfortable than
I ever dreamed one could be on the frontier. Father is well content
here, and that makes me happy. I haven't had time for forebodings. The
young men of Fort Henry have been—well, attentive; in fact, they've
been here all the time."
    She laughed a little at this last remark, and looked demurely at him.
    "It's a frontier custom," he said.
    "Oh, indeed? Do all the young men call often and stay late?"
    "They do."
    "You didn't," she retorted. "You're the only one who hasn't been to
see me."
    "I do not wait on the girls," he replied with a grave smile.
    "Oh, you don't? Do you expect them to wait on you?" she asked,
feeling, now she had made this silent man talk, once more at her ease.
    "I am a borderman," replied Jonathan. There was a certain dignity or
sadness in his answer which reminded Helen of Colonel Zane's portrayal
of a borderman's life. It struck her keenly. Here was this young giant
standing erect and handsome before her, as rugged as one of the ash
trees of his beloved forest. Who could tell when his strong life might
be ended by an Indian's hatchet?
    "For you, then, is there no such thing as friendship?" she asked.
    "On the border men are serious."
    This recalled his sister's conversation regarding the attentions of
the young men, that they would follow her, fight for her, and give her
absolutely no peace until one of them had carried her to his cabin
a bride.
    She could not carry on the usual conventional conversation with this
borderman, but remained silent for a time. She realized more keenly
than ever before how different he was from other men, and watched
closely as he stood gazing out over the river. Perhaps something she
had said caused him to think of the many pleasures and joys he missed.
But she could not be certain what was in his mind. She was not
accustomed to impassive faces and cold eyes with unlit fires in their
dark depths. More likely he was thinking of matters nearer to his
wild, free life; of his companion