"For God's sake," he gasped, "put that down." In truth, James Rutlidge was nearer death, at that instant, than he had ever been before.
Drawing back a few fearful paces, his hands still uplifted, he said again, "Put it down, I tell you.

Don't you see I'm not going to touch you?
You are crazy.

You might kill me." Her words came cold and collected, expressing, together with her calm manner, perfect self-possession "If you can give any good reason why I should not kill you, I will let you go." The man was carefully drawing backward toward the tree against which he had placed his rifle.
She watched him, with a disconcerting smile.

"You may as well stop now," she said, in those even, composed tones.

"I shall fire, the moment you are within reach of your gun." He halted with a gesture of despair; his face livid with fear at her apparent indecision as to his fate.
Presently, she spoke again.