Colter seemed obsessed by his passion for her, and though Ellen in her stubborn pride did not yet fear him, she realized she ought to.

After that incident she watched closely, never leaving her uncle's bedside except when Colter was absent.

One or more of the men kept constant lookout somewhere down the canyon.
Day after day passed on the wings of suspense, of watching, of ministering to her uncle, of waiting for some hour that seemed fixed.
Colter was like a hound upon her trail.

At every turn he was there to importune her to run off with him, to frighten her with the menace of the Isbels, to beg her to give herself to him.

It came to pass that the only relief she had was when she ate with the men or barred the cabin door at night.