She watched him silhouetted against the blood-red globe of the sun as it
sank lower and lower. She could see every outline of his slouch-hat and
muscular shoulders as he turned now and then and saw her standing still
alone at her cabin door. Why he was going he could not tell; but he went,
and he frowned as he rode away, with the wicked gleam still in his eye;
for he meant to return.
At last he disappeared; and the girl, turning, looked up, and there rode
the white ghost of the moon overhead. She was alone.