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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Daughter of the Forest, by Evelyn Raymond,
+Illustrated by Ida Waugh
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: A Daughter of the Forest
+
+
+Author: Evelyn Raymond
+
+
+
+Release Date: March 15, 2010  [eBook #31655]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST***
+
+
+E-text prepared by D Alexander and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images
+generously made available by Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 31655-h.htm or 31655-h.zip:
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/31655/31655-h/31655-h.htm)
+      or
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/31655/31655-h.zip)
+
+
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive. See
+      http://www.archive.org/details/daughterofforest00raymrich
+
+
+
+
+
+A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST
+
+by
+
+EVELYN RAYMOND
+
+Author of "A Yankee Girl" etc.
+
+Illustrated by Ida Waugh
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Penn Publishing Company
+Philadelphia MCMII
+
+Copyright 1902 by The Penn Publishing Company
+
+Published August 15, 1902
+
+A Daughter of the Forest
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE GIRL KNELT, INDIAN FASHION]
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+ CHAPTER                                                    PAGE
+
+     I THE STORM                                              5
+
+    II SPIRIT OR MORTAL                                      15
+
+   III AN ESTRAY FROM CIVILIZATION                           27
+
+    IV WHAT WAS IN THE NAME                                  40
+
+     V IN ALADDIN LAND                                       53
+
+    VI A ONE-SIDED STORY                                     67
+
+   VII A WOODLAND MENAGERIE                                  78
+
+  VIII KING MADOC                                            84
+
+    IX PERPLEXITIES                                          96
+
+     X DEPARTURE                                            109
+
+    XI A DISCLOSURE                                         120
+
+   XII CARRYING                                             134
+
+  XIII A DEAD WATER TRAGEDY                                 146
+
+   XIV SHOOTING THE RAPIDS                                  157
+
+    XV SCIENCE AND SUPERSTITION                             172
+
+   XVI DIVERGING ROADS                                      188
+
+  XVII IN THE HOUR OF DARKNESS                              201
+
+ XVIII THE LETTER                                           212
+
+   XIX A QUESTION OF APPAREL                                226
+
+    XX COMING AND GOING                                     241
+
+   XXI IN THE GREAT RAILWAY STATION                         259
+
+  XXII NUMBER 526                                           272
+
+ XXIII FATHER AND SON                                       283
+
+  XXIV  A HIDDEN SAFE DEPOSIT                               302
+
+   XXV THE MELODY AND MYSTERY OF LIFE                       319
+
+
+
+
+A Daughter of the Forest
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE STORM
+
+
+"Margot! Margot!"
+
+Mother Angelique's anxious call rang out over the water, once, twice,
+many times. But, though she shaded her brows with her hands and
+strained her keen ears to listen, there was no one visible and no
+response came back to her. So she climbed the hill again and,
+reëntering the cabin, began to stir with almost vicious energy the
+contents of a pot swinging in the wide fireplace. As she toiled she
+muttered and wagged her gray head with sage misgivings.
+
+"For my soul! There is the ver' bad hoorican' a-comin', and the child
+so heedless. But the signs, the omens! This same day I did fall
+asleep at the knitting and waked a-smother. True, 'twas Meroude, the
+cat, crouched on my breast; yet what sent her save for a warning?"
+
+Though even in her scolding the woman smiled, recalling how Margot had
+jeered at her superstition; and that when she had dropped her bit of
+looking-glass the girl had merrily congratulated her on the fact;
+since by so doing she had secured "two mirrors in which to behold such
+loveliness!"
+
+"No, no, not so. Death lurks in a broken glass; or, at the best, must
+follow seven full years of bad luck and sorrow."
+
+On which had come the instant reproof:
+
+"Silly Angelique! When there is no such thing as luck but all is of
+the will of God."
+
+The old nurse had frowned. The maid was too wise for her years. She
+talked too much with the master. It was not good for womenkind to
+listen to grave speech or plague their heads with graver books. Books,
+indeed, were for priests and doctors; and, maybe, now and then, for
+men who could not live without them, like Master Hugh. She, Angelique,
+had never read a book in all her life. She never meant to do so. She
+had not even learned a single letter printed in their foolish pages.
+Not she. Yet was not she a most excellent cook and seamstress? Was
+there any cabin in all that northland as tidy as that she ruled?
+Would matters have been the better had she bothered her poor brain
+with books? She knew her duty and she did it. What more could mortal?
+
+This argument had been early in the day. A day on which the master had
+gone away to the mainland and the house-mistress had improved by
+giving the house an extra cleaning. To escape the soapsuds and the
+loneliness, Margot had, also, gone, alone and unquestioned; taking
+with her a luncheon of brown bread and cold fowl, her book and
+microscope. Angelique had watched the little canoe push off from
+shore, without regret, since now she could work unhindered at
+clearing the room of the "rubbishy specimen" which the others had
+brought in to mess the place.
+
+Now, at supper time, perfect order reigned, and perfect quiet, as
+well; save for the purring of Meroude upon the hearth and the
+simmering of the kettle. Angelique wiped her face with her apron.
+
+"The great heat! and May but young yet. It means trouble. I wish----"
+
+Suddenly, the cat waked from her sleep and with a sharp meouw leaped
+to her mistress' shoulder; who screamed, dropped the ladle, splashed
+the stew, and boxed the animal's ears--all within a few seconds. Her
+nerves were already tingling from the electricity in the air, and her
+anxiety returned with such force that, again swinging the crane around
+away from the fire, she hurried to the beach.
+
+To one so weatherwise the unusual heat, the leaden sky, and the
+intense hush were ominous. There was not a breath of wind stirring,
+apparently, yet the surface of the lake was already dotted by tiny
+white-caps, racing and chasing shoreward, like live creatures at play.
+Not many times, even in her long life in that solitude, had Angelique
+Ricord seen just that curious coloring of cloud and water, and she
+recalled these with a shudder. The child she loved was strong and
+skilful, but what would that avail? Her thin face darkened, its
+features sharpened, and making a trumpet of her hands, she put all her
+force into a long, terrified halloo.
+
+"Ah-ho-a-ah! Margot--Mar-g-o-t--MARGOT!"
+
+Something clutched her shoulder and with another frightened scream the
+woman turned to confront her master.
+
+"Is the child away?"
+
+"Yes, yes. I know not where."
+
+"Since when?"
+
+"It seems but an hour, maybe two, three, and she was here, laughing,
+singing, all as ever. Though it was before the midday, and she went
+in her canoe, still singing."
+
+"Which way?"
+
+She pointed due east, but now into a gloom that was impenetrable. On
+the instant, the lapping wavelets became breakers, the wind rose to a
+deafening shriek, throwing Angelique to the ground and causing even
+the strong man to reel before it. As soon as he could right himself he
+lifted her in his arms and staggered up the slope. Rather, he was
+almost blown up it and through the open door into the cabin, about
+which its furnishings were flying wildly. Here the woman recovered
+herself and lent her aid in closing the door against the tempest, a
+task that, for a time, seemed impossible. Her next thought was for her
+dinner-pot, now swaying in the fireplace, up which the draught was
+roaring furiously. Once the precious stew was in a sheltered corner,
+her courage failed again and she sank down beside it, moaning and
+wringing her hands.
+
+"It is the end of the world!"
+
+"Angelique!"
+
+Her wails ceased. That was a tone of voice she had never disobeyed in
+all her fifteen years of service.
+
+"Yes, Master Hugh."
+
+"Spread some blankets. Brew some herb tea. Get out a change of dry
+clothing. Make everything ready against I bring Margot in."
+
+She watched him hurrying about securing all the windows, piling wood
+on the coals, straightening the disordered furniture, fastening a
+bundle of kindlings to his own shoulders, putting matches in the
+pocket of his closely buttoned coat, and caught something of his
+spirit. After all, it was a relief to be doing something, even though
+the roar of the tempest and the incessant flashes of lightning turned
+her sick with fear. But it was all too short a task; and when, at
+last, her master climbed outward through a sheltered rear window,
+closing it behind him, her temporary courage sank again and finally.
+
+"The broken glass! the broken glass! Yet who would dream it is my
+darling's bright young life must pay for that and not mine, the old
+and careworn? Ouch! the blast! That bolt struck--and near! Ah! me! Ah!
+me!"
+
+Meroude rubbed pleadingly against her arm and, glad of any living
+companionship, she put out her hand to touch him; but drew it back in
+dread, for his surcharged fur sparkled and set her flesh a-tingle,
+while the whole room grew luminous with an uncanny radiance. Feeling
+that her own last hour had come, poor Angelique crouched still lower
+in her corner and began to say her prayers with so much earnestness
+that she became almost oblivious to the tornado without.
+
+Meanwhile, by stooping and clinging to whatever support offered, Hugh
+Dutton made his slow way beachward. But the bushes uprooted in his
+clasp and the bowlders slipped by him on this new torrent rushing to
+the lake. Then he flung himself face downward and cautiously crawled
+toward the point of rocks whereon he meant to make his beacon fire.
+
+"She will see it and steer by it," he reflected; for he would not
+acknowledge how hopeless would be any human steering under such a
+stress.
+
+Alas! the beacon would not light. The wind had turned icy cold and the
+rain changed to hail which hurled itself upon the tiny blaze and
+stifled its first breath. A sort of desperate patience fell on the man
+and he began again, with utmost care, to build and shelter his little
+stock of fire-wood. Match after match he struck and with unvarying
+failure, till all were gone; and realizing at last how chilled and
+rigid he was growing he struggled to his feet and set them into
+motion.
+
+Then there came a momentary lull in the storm and he shouted aloud, as
+Angelique had done:
+
+"Margot! Little Margot! MARGOT!"
+
+Another gust swept over lake and island. He could hear the great
+trees falling in the forest, the bang, bang, bang, of the deafening
+thunder, as, blinded by lightning and overcome by exhaustion, he sank
+down behind the pile of rocks and knew no more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+SPIRIT OR MORTAL
+
+
+The end of that great storm was almost as sudden as its beginning.
+Aroused by the silence that succeeded the uproar, Angelique stood up
+and rubbed her limbs, stiff with long kneeling. The fire had gone out.
+Meroude was asleep on the blankets spread for Margot, who had not
+returned, nor the master. As for that matter the house-mistress had
+not expected that they ever would.
+
+"There is nothin' left. I am alone. It was the glass. Ah! that the
+palsy had but seized my unlucky hand before I took it from its shelf!
+How still it is. How clear, too, is my darling's laugh--it rings
+through the room--it is a ghost. It will haunt me al-ways, al-ways."
+
+Unable longer to bear the indoor silence, which her fancy filled with
+familiar sounds, she unbarred the heavy door and stepped out.
+
+"Ah! is it possible! Can the sun be settin' that way? as if there had
+been nothin' happenin'."
+
+Wrecks strewed the open ground about the cabin, poultry coops were
+washed away, the cow shed was a heap of ruins, into which the
+trembling observer dared not peer. That Snowfoot should be dead was a
+calamity but second only to the loss of master and nursling.
+
+"Ah! my beast, my beast. The best in all this northern Maine. That the
+master bought and brought in the big canoe for an Easter gift to his
+so faithful Angelique. And yet the sun sets as red and calm as if all
+was the same as ever."
+
+It was, indeed, a scene of grandeur. The storm, in passing northward,
+had left scattered banks of clouds, now colored most brilliantly by
+the setting sun and widely reflected on the once more placid lake. But
+neither the beauty, nor the sweet, rain-washed air, appealed to the
+distracted islander who faced the west and shook her hand in impotent
+rage toward it.
+
+"Shine, will you? With the harm all done and nothin' left but me, old
+Angelique! Pouf! I turn my back on you!"
+
+Then she ran shoreward with all speed, dreading what she might find
+yet eager to know the worst, if there it might be learned. With her
+apron over her head she saw only what lay straight before her and so
+passed the point of rocks without observing her master lying behind
+it. But a few steps further she paused, arrested by a sight which
+turned her numb with superstitious terror. What was that coming over
+the water? A ghost! a spirit!
+
+Did spirits paddle canoes and sing as this one was singing?
+
+     "The boatman's song is borne along far over the water so blue,
+     And loud and clear, the voice we hear of the boatman so honest
+                         and true;
+           He's rowing, rowing, rowing along,
+             He's rowing, rowing, rowing along--
+               He's rowing and singing his song."
+
+Ghosts should sing hymns, not jolly little ballads like this, in which
+one could catch the very rhythm and dip of oar or paddle. Still, it
+was as well to wait and see if this were flesh or apparition before
+pronouncing judgment.
+
+It was certainly a canoe, snowy white and most familiar--so familiar
+that the watcher began to lose her first terror. A girl knelt in it,
+Indian fashion, gracefully and evenly dipping her paddle to the melody
+of her lips. Her bare head was thrown back and her fair hair floated
+loose. Her face was lighted by the western glow, on which she fixed
+her eyes with such intentness that she did not perceive the woman who
+awaited her with now such mixed emotions.
+
+But Tom saw. Tom, the eagle, perched in the bow, keen of vision and of
+prejudice. Between him and old Angelique was a grudge of long
+standing. Whenever they met, even after a brief separation, he
+expressed his feelings by his hoarsest screech. He did so now and, by
+so doing, recalled Margot from sky-gazing and his enemy from doubt.
+
+"Ah! Angelique! Watching for me? How kind of you. Hush, Tom. Let her
+alone, good Angelique, poor Angelique!"
+
+The eagle flapped his wings with a melancholy disdain and plunged his
+beak in his breast. The old woman on the beach was not worth minding,
+after all, by a monarch of the sky--as he would be but for his broken
+wing--but the girl was worth everything, even his obedience.
+
+She laughed at his sulkiness, plying her paddle the faster, and soon
+reached the pebbly beach, where she sprang out, and drawing her canoe
+out of the water, swept her old nurse a curtsey.
+
+"Home again, mother, and hungry for my supper."
+
+"Supper, indeed! Breakin' my heart with your run-about ways! and the
+hoorican', with ever'thin' ruined, ever'thin'! The master---- Where's
+he, I know not. The great pine broken like a match; the coops, the
+cow-house, and Snowfoot---- Ah, me! Yet the little one talks of
+supper!"
+
+Margot looked about her in astonishment, scarcely noticing the other's
+words. The devastation of her beloved home was evident, even down on
+the open beach, and she dared not think what it might be further
+inland.
+
+"Why, it must have been a cyclone! We were reading about them only
+yesterday and Uncle Hugh--did you say that you knew--where is he?"
+
+Angelique shook her head.
+
+"Can I tell anythin', me? Into the storm he went and out of it he will
+come alive, as you have. If the good Lord wills," she added
+reverently.
+
+The girl sprang to the woman's side, and caught her arm impatiently.
+
+"Tell me, quick. Where is he? where did you last see him?"
+
+"Goin' into the hoorican', with wood upon his shoulder. To make a
+beacon for you. So I guess. But you--tell how you come alive out of
+all that?" Sweeping her arm over the outlook.
+
+Margot did not stop to answer but darted toward the point of rocks
+where, if anywhere, she knew her guardian would have tried his signal
+fire. In a moment she found him.
+
+"Angelique! Angelique! He's here. Quick--quick---- He's---- Oh! is he
+dead, is he dead?"
+
+There was both French and Indian blood in mother Ricord's veins, a
+passionate loyalty in her heart, and the suppleness of youth still in
+her spare frame. With a dash she was at the girl's side and had thrust
+her away, to kneel herself and lift her master's head from its hard
+pillow of rock.
+
+With swift nervous motions she unfastened his coat and bent her ear to
+his breast.
+
+"'Tis only a faint, maybe shock. In all the world was only Margot, and
+Margot was lost. Ugh! the hail. See, it is still here--look! water,
+and--yes, the tea! It was for you---- Ah!"
+
+Her words ended with a sigh of satisfaction as a slight motion stirred
+the features into which she peered so earnestly, and she raised her
+master's head a bit higher. Then his eyes slowly opened and the dazed
+look gradually gave place to a normal expression.
+
+"Why, Margot! Angelique? What's happened?"
+
+"Oh! Uncle Hugh! are you hurt? are you ill? I found you here behind
+the rocks and Angelique says--but I wasn't hurt at all. I wasn't out
+in any storm, didn't know there had been one, that is, worth minding,
+till I came home----"
+
+"Like a ghost out of the lake. She was not even dead, not she. And she
+was singin' fit to burst her throat while you were--well, maybe, not
+dead, yourself."
+
+At this juncture, Tom, the inquisitive, thrust his white head forward
+into the midst of the group and, in her relief from her first fear,
+Margot laughed aloud.
+
+"Don't, Tom! You're one of the family, of course, and since none of
+the rest of us will die to please that broken mirror, you may have to!
+Especially, if there's a new brood out----"
+
+But here Angelique threw up her free hand with such a gesture of
+despair that Margot said no more, and her face sobered again,
+remembering that, even though they were all still alive, there might
+be suffering untold among her humbler woodland friends. Then, as Mr.
+Dutton rose, almost unaided, a fresh regret came:
+
+"That there should be a cyclone, right here at home, and I not to see
+it! See! Look, uncle, look! You can trace its very path, just as we
+read. Away to the south there is no sign of it, nor on the northeast.
+It must have swept up to us out of the southeast and taken our island
+in its track. Oh! I wouldn't have missed it for anything."
+
+The man rested his hand upon her shoulder and turned her gently
+homeward. His weakness had left him as it had come upon him, with a
+suddenness like that of the recent tempest. It was not the first
+seizure of the kind, which he had had, though neither of these others
+knew it; and the fact added a deeper gravity to his always thoughtful
+manner.
+
+"I am most thankful that you were not here; but where could you have
+been to escape it?"
+
+"All day in the long cave. To the very end of it I believe, and see! I
+found these. They are like the specimens you brought the other day.
+They must be some rich metal."
+
+"In the long cave, you? Alone? All day? Margot, Margot, is not the
+glass enough? but you must tempt worse luck by goin' there!" cried
+Angelique, who had preceded the others on the path, but now faced
+about, trembling indignantly. What foolish creature was this who
+would pass a whole day in that haunted spot, in spite of the dreadful
+tales that had been told of it. "Pouf! But I wear out my poor brain,
+everlastin' to study the charms will save you from evil, me. And
+yet----"
+
+"You would do well to use some of your charms on Tom, yonder. He's
+found an overturned coop and looks too happy to be out of mischief."
+
+The woman wheeled again and was off up the slope like a flash, where
+presently the king of birds was treated to the indignity of a sound
+boxing, which he resented with squawks and screeches, but not with
+talons, since under each foot he held the plump body of a fat chicken.
+
+"Tom thinks a bird in the hand is worth a score of cuffs! and
+Angelique's so determined to have somebody die--I hope it won't be
+Tom. A pity, though, that harm should have happened to her own pets.
+Hark! What is that?"
+
+"Some poor woodland creature in distress. The storm----"
+
+"That's no sound belonging to the forest. But it is--distress!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+AN ESTRAY FROM CIVILIZATION
+
+
+They paused by the cabin door, left open by Angelique, and listened
+intently. She, too, had caught the alien sound, the faint, appealing
+halloo of a human voice--the rarest of all cries in that wilderness.
+Even the eagle's screeches could not drown it, but she had had enough
+of anxieties for one day. Let other people look out for themselves;
+her precious ones should not stir afield again, no, not for anything.
+Let the evil bird devour the dead chickens, if he must, her place was
+in the cabin, and she rushed back down the slope, fairly forcing the
+others inward from the threshold where they hesitated.
+
+"'Tis a loon. You should know that, I think, and that they're always
+cryin' fit to scare the dead. Come. The supper's waited this long
+time."
+
+With a smile that disarmed offense Margot caught the woman's shoulder
+and lightly swung her aside out of the way.
+
+"Eat then, hungry one! I, too, am hungry, but---- Hark!"
+
+The cry came again, prolonged, entreating, not to be confounded with
+that of any forest wilding.
+
+"It's from the north end of our own island!"
+
+The master's ear was not less keen than the girl's, and both had the
+acuteness of an Indian's, but his judgment was better.
+
+"From the mainland, across the narrows."
+
+Neither delayed, as a mutual impulse sent them toward the shore, but
+again Angelique interposed.
+
+"Thoughtless child, have you no sense? With the master just out of a
+faint that was nigh death itself! With nothin' in his poor stomach
+since the mornin' and your own as empty. Wait. Eat. Then chase loons,
+if you will."
+
+Mr. Dutton laughed, though he also frowned and cast a swift, anxious
+glance toward Margot. But she was intent upon nothing save answering
+that far-off cry.
+
+"Which canoe, uncle?"
+
+"Mine."
+
+The devoted servant made a last protest, and caught the girl's arm as
+it pushed the light craft downward into the water.
+
+"My child, he is not fit. Believe me. Best leave others to their fate
+than he should over-tax himself again, so soon."
+
+Margot was astonished. In all her life she had never before associated
+thought of physical weakness with her stalwart guardian, and a sharp
+fear of some unknown trouble shot through her heart.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+The master had reached them and now laid his own hand upon Angelique's
+detaining one.
+
+"There, woman, that's enough. The storm has shaken your nerves. If
+you're afraid to stay alone, Margot shall stop with you. But let's
+have no more nonsense."
+
+Mother Ricord stepped back, away. She had done her best. Let come what
+might, her conscience was clear.
+
+A few seconds later the canoe pushed off over the now darkening water
+and its inmates made all speed toward that point from which the cry
+had been heard, but was heard no more. However, the steersman followed
+a perfectly direct course and, if he were still weak from his seizure,
+his movement showed no signs of it, so that Margot's fear for him was
+lost in the interest of their present adventure. She rhymed her own
+stroke to her uncle's and when he rested her paddle instantly stopped.
+
+"Halloo! Hal-l-oo!" he shouted, but as no answer came, said:
+"Now--both together!"
+
+The girl's shriller treble may have had further carrying power than
+the man's voice, for there was promptly returned to them an echoing
+halloo, coming apparently from a great distance. But it was repeated
+at close intervals and each time with more distinctness.
+
+"We'll beach the boat just yonder, under that tamarack. Whoever it is
+has heard and is coming back."
+
+Margot's impatience broke bounds and she darted forward among the
+trees, shouting: "This way! this way! here we are--here!" Her peculiar
+life and training had made her absolutely fearless, and she would have
+been surprised by her guardian's command to "Wait!" had she heard it,
+which she did not. Also, she knew the forest as other girls know their
+city streets, and the dimness was no hindrance to her nimble feet. In
+a brief time she caught the crashing of boughs as some person, less
+familiar than she, blundered through the underbrush and finally came
+into view where a break in the timber gave a faint light.
+
+"Here! Here! This way!"
+
+He staggered and held out his hands, as if for aid, and Margot clasped
+them firmly. They were cold and tremulous. They were, also, slender
+and smooth, not at all like the hands of any men whom she was used to
+seeing. At the relief of her touch, his strength left him, but she
+caught his murmured:
+
+"Thank God. I--had--given up----"
+
+His voice, too, was different from any she knew, save her own uncle's.
+This was somebody, then, from that outside world of which she dreamed
+so much and knew so little. It was like a fairy tale come true.
+
+"Are you ill? There. Lean on me. Don't fear. Oh! I'm strong, very
+strong, and uncle is just yonder, coming this way. Uncle--uncle!"
+
+The stranger was almost past speech. Mr. Dutton recognized that at
+once and added his support to Margot's. Between them they half-led,
+half-carried the wanderer to the canoe and lifted him into it, where
+he sank exhausted. Then they dipped their paddles and the boat shot
+homeward, racing with death. Angelique was still on the beach and
+still complaining of their foolhardiness, but one word from her master
+silenced that. "Lend a hand, woman! Here's something real to worry
+about. Margot, go ahead and get the lights."
+
+As the girl sprang from it, the housekeeper pulled the boat to a spot
+above the water and, stooping, lifted a generous share of the burden
+it contained.
+
+It had not been a loon, then. No. Well, she had known that from the
+beginnin', just as she had known that her beloved master was in no fit
+condition to go man-huntin'. This one he had found was, probably, dead
+anyway. Of course. Somebody had to die--beyond chickens and such--had
+not the broken glass so said?
+
+Even in the twilight Mr. Dutton could detect the grim satisfaction of
+her face and smiled, foreseeing her change of expression when this
+seemingly lifeless guest should revive.
+
+They laid him on the lounge that had been spread with blankets for
+Margot, and she was already beside it, waiting to administer the herb
+tea which had, also, been prepared for herself, and which she had
+marveled to find so opportunely brewed.
+
+Mr. Dutton smiled again. In her simplicity the girl did not dream that
+the now bitter decoction was not a common restorative outside their
+primitive life, and in all good faith forced a spoonful of it between
+the closed lips.
+
+"After all, it doesn't matter. The poor fellow is doubtless used to
+richer cordials, but it's hot and strong and will do the work. You,
+Angelique, make us a pot of your best coffee, and swing round that
+dinner-pot. The man is almost starved, and I'm on the road to follow
+him. How about you, Margot?"
+
+"Poh! I guess I'm hungry--I will be--see! He's swallowing it. Fast.
+Give me that bigger spoon! Quick!"
+
+"What would you? Scald the creature's throat? So he isn't dead, after
+all. Well, he needn't have made a body think so, he needn't. There,
+Margot! You've messed him with the black stuff!"
+
+Indignantly brushing her child aside the woman seized the cup and
+deftly administered its entire contents. The stranger had not yet
+opened his eyes, but accepted the warm liquid mechanically, and his
+nurse hurried to fill a bowl with the broth of the stew in the kettle.
+This, in turn, was taken from her by Margot, who jealously exclaimed:
+
+"He's mine. I heard him first, I found him first, let me be the first
+he sees. Dish up the supper, please, and set my uncle's place."
+
+So when, a moment later, having been nearly choked by the more
+substantial food forced into his mouth, the guest opened his eyes,
+they beheld the eager face of a brown skinned, fair haired girl very
+close to his and heard her joyous cry:
+
+"He sees me! he sees everything! He's getting well already!"
+
+He had never seen anybody like her. Her hair was as abundant as a
+mantle and rippled over her shoulders like spun silver. So it looked
+in the lamplight. In fact, it had never been bound nor covered, and
+what in a different social condition might have been much darker, had
+in this outdoor life become bleached almost white. The weather which
+had whitened the hair had tanned the skin to bronze, making the blue
+eyes more vivid by contrast and the red lips redder. These were
+smiling now, over well kept teeth, and there was about the whole
+bearing of the maid something suggestive of the woodland in which she
+had been reared.
+
+Purity, honesty, freedom, all spoke in every motion and tone, and to
+this observer, at least, seemed better than any beauty. Presently, he
+was able to push her too willing hand gently away and to say:
+
+"Not quite so fast, please."
+
+"Oh! uncle! Hear him? He talks just as you do! Not a bit like Pierre,
+or Joe, or the rest."
+
+Mr. Dutton came forward, smiling and remonstrating.
+
+"My dear, our new friend will think you quite rude, if you discuss him
+before his face, so frankly. But, sir, I assure you she means nothing
+but delight at your recovery. We are all most thankful that you are
+here and safe. There, Margot. Let the gentleman rest a few minutes.
+Then a cup of coffee may be better than the stew. Were you long
+without food, friend?"
+
+The stranger tried to answer but the effort tired him, and with a
+beckoning nod to the young nurse, the woodlander led the way back to
+the table and their own delayed supper. Both needed it and both ate it
+rather hastily, much to the disgust of Angelique who felt that her
+skill was wasted; but one was anxious to be off out of doors, to learn
+the damage left by the storm, and the other to be back on her stool
+beside the lounge. When Mr. Dutton rose, the housekeeper left her own
+seat.
+
+"I'll fetch the lantern, master. But that's the last of Snowfoot's
+good milk you'll ever drink," she sighed, touching the pitcher sadly.
+
+"What? Is anything wrong with her?"
+
+"The cow-house is in ruins. So are the poultry coops. What with
+falling ill yourself just at the worst time and fetchin' home other
+sick folks we might all go to wrack and nobody the better."
+
+The familiar grumbling provoked only a smile from the master, who
+would readily have staked his life on the woman's devotion to "her
+people" and knew that the apparent crossness was not that in reality.
+
+"Fie, good Angelique! Never so happy as when you're miserable. Come
+on. Nothing must suffer if we can prevent. Take care of our guest,
+Margot, but give him his nourishment slowly, at intervals. I'll get
+some tools, and join you at the shed, Angelique."
+
+He went out and the housekeeper followed with the lantern, not needed
+in the moonlight, but possibly of use at the fallen cow-house.
+
+They were long gone. The stranger dozed, waked, ate, and dozed again.
+Margot, accustomed to early hours, also slept and soundly, till a
+fearful shriek roused her. Her patient was wildly kicking and striking
+at some hideous monster which had settled on his chest and would not
+be displaced.
+
+"He's killing me! Help--help! Oh-a-ah!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+WHAT WAS IN THE NAME
+
+
+Thrusting back the hair that had fallen over her eyes, Margot sprang
+up and stared at the floundering mass of legs, arms, and wings upon
+the wide lounge--a battle to the death, it seemed. Then she caught the
+assailant in her strong hands and flung him aside, while her laughter
+rang out in a way to make the stranger, also, stare, believing she had
+gone crazy with sudden fear.
+
+But his terror had restored his strength most marvelously, for he too,
+leaped to his feet and retreated to the furthest corner of the room,
+whence he regarded the scene with dilated eyes.
+
+"Why--why--it's nobody, nothing but dear old Tom!"
+
+"It's an eagle! The first----"
+
+"Of course, he's an eagle. Aren't you, dear? The most splendid bird
+in Maine, or maybe Canada. The wisest, the most loving, the---- Oh!
+You big blundering precious thing! Scaring people like that. You
+should be more civil, sir."
+
+"Is--is--he tame?"
+
+"Tame as a pet chicken. But mischievous. He wouldn't hurt you for
+anything."
+
+"Humph! He would have killed me if I hadn't waked and yelled."
+
+"Well, you did that surely. You feel better, don't you?"
+
+"I wish you'd put him outdoors, or shut him up where he belongs. I
+want to sit down."
+
+"There's no reason why you shouldn't," she answered, pushing a chair
+toward him.
+
+"Where did you get it--that creature?"
+
+"Uncle found him when he was ever so young. Somebody or something, a
+hunter or some other bird, had hurt his wing and one foot. Eagles can
+be injured by the least little blow upon their wings, you know."
+
+"No. I know nothing about them--yet. But I shall, some day."
+
+"Oh! I hope so. They're delightful to study. Tom is very large, we
+think. He's nearly four feet tall, and his wings---- Spread your
+wings, sir! Spread!"
+
+Margot had dropped upon the floor before the wide fireplace, her
+favorite seat. Her arms clasped her strange pet's body while his white
+head rested lovingly upon her shoulder. His eyes were fixed upon the
+blazing logs and his yellow irises gleamed as if they had caught and
+held the dancing flames. But at her command he shook himself free, and
+extended one mighty wing, while she stretched out the other. Their
+tips were full nine feet apart and seemed to fill and darken the whole
+place.
+
+In spite of this odd girl's fearless handling of the bird, it looked
+most formidable to the visitor, who retreated again to a safe
+distance, though he had begun to advance toward her. And again he
+implored her to put the uncanny "monster" out of the house.
+
+Margot laughed; as she was always doing; but going to the table filled
+a plate with fragments from the stew and calling Tom, set the dish
+before him on the threshold.
+
+"There's your supper, Thomas the King! Which means, no more of
+Angelique's chickens, dead or alive."
+
+The eagle gravely limped out of doors and the visitor felt relieved,
+so that he cast somewhat longing glances upon the table, and Margot
+was quick to understand them. Putting a generous portion upon another
+plate, she moved a chair to the side nearest the fire.
+
+"You're so much stronger, I guess it won't hurt you to take as much as
+you like now. When did you eat anything before?"
+
+"Day before yesterday--I think. I hardly know. The time seems
+confused. As if I had been wandering, round and round, forever. I--was
+almost dead, wasn't I?"
+
+"Yes. But 'twas our housekeeper who was first to see it was
+starvation. Angelique is a Canadian. She lived in the woods long
+before we came to them. She is very wise."
+
+He made no comment, being then too busy eating; but at length,
+even his voracity was satisfied and he had leisure to examine his
+surroundings. He looked at Margot as if girls were as unknown as
+eagles; and indeed such as she were--to him, at least. Her dress was
+of blue flannel, and of the same simple cut that she had always worn.
+A loose blouse, short skirt, full knickerbockers, met at the knees by
+long shoes, or gaiters of buckskin. These were as comfortable and
+pliable as Indian moccasins, and the only footgear she had ever known.
+They were made for her in a distant town, whither Mr. Dutton went for
+needed supplies, and, like the rest of her costume, after a design
+of his own. She was certainly unconventional in manner, but not from
+rudeness so much as from a desire to study him--another unknown
+"specimen" from an outside world. Her speech was correct beyond that
+common among schoolgirls, and her gaze was as friendly as it was
+frank.
+
+Their scrutiny of each other was ended by her exclaiming:
+
+"Why--you are not old! Not much older than Pierre, I believe! It must
+be because you are so dirty that I thought you were a man like uncle."
+
+"Thank you," he answered drily.
+
+But she had no intention of offense. Accustomed all her own life to
+the utmost cleanliness, in the beginning insisted upon by Angelique
+because it was "proper," and by her guardian for health's sake, she
+had grown up with a horror of the discomfort of any untidiness, and
+she felt herself most remiss in her attentions, that she had not
+earlier offered soap and water. Before he realized what she was about,
+she had sped into the little outer room which the household used as a
+lavatory and whirled a wooden tub into its centre. This she promptly
+filled with water from a pipe in the wall, and having hung fresh
+towels on a chair, returned to the living room.
+
+"I'm so sorry. I ought to have thought of that right away. But a bath
+is ready now, if you wish it."
+
+The stranger rose, stammered a little, but accepted what was in truth
+a delightful surprise.
+
+"Well, this is still more amazing! Into what sort of a spot have I
+stumbled? It's a log house, but with apparently, several rooms. It has
+all the comforts of civilization and at least this one luxury. There
+are books, too. I saw them in that inner apartment as I passed the
+open door. The man looks like a gentleman in the disguise of a
+lumberman, and the girl--what'll she do next? Ask me where I came from
+and why, I presume. If she does, I'll have to answer her, and
+truthfully. I can't fancy anybody lying to those blue eyes. Maybe she
+won't ask."
+
+She did, however, as soon as he reëntered the living room, refreshed
+and certainly much more attractive in appearance than when he had had
+the soil and litter of his long wandering upon him.
+
+"Oh! how much more comfortable you must be. How did you get lost? Is
+your home far from here?"
+
+"A long, long way;" and for a moment, something like sadness touched
+his face. That look passed quickly and a defiant expression took its
+place.
+
+"What a pity! It will be so much harder to get word to your people.
+Maybe Pierre can carry a message, or show you the road, once you are
+strong enough again."
+
+"Who's Pierre?"
+
+"Mother Ricord's son. He's a woodlander and wiser even than she is.
+He's really more French than Indian, but uncle says the latter race is
+strongest in him. It often is in his type."
+
+"A-ah, indeed! So you study types up here, do you?"
+
+"Yes. Uncle makes it so interesting. You see, he got used to teaching
+stupid people when he was a professor in his college. I'm dreadfully
+stupid about books, though I do my best. But I love living things; and
+the books about animals, and races, are charming. When they're true,
+that is. Often they're not. There's one book on squirrels uncle keeps
+as a curiosity, to show how little the writer knew about them. And the
+pictures are no more like squirrels than--than they are like me."
+
+"A-ah," said the listener, again. "That explains."
+
+"I don't know what you mean. No matter. It's the old stupidity, I
+suppose. How did you get lost?"
+
+"The same prevailing stupidity," he laughed. "Though I didn't realize
+it for that quality. Just thought I was smart, you know--conceit.
+I--I--well, I didn't get on so very well at the lumber camp I'd
+joined. I wasn't used to work of that sort and there didn't seem
+to be room, even in the woods, for a greenhorn. I thought it was
+easy enough. I could find my way anywhere, in any wilderness,
+with my outfit. I'd brought that along, or bought it after I left
+civilization; so one night I left, set out to paddle my own canoe. I
+paddled it into the rapids, what those fellows called rips, and they
+ripped me to ruin. Upset, lost all my kit, tried to find my way back,
+wandered and walked forever and ever, it seemed to me, and--you know
+the rest."
+
+"But I do not. Did you keep hallooing all that long time? or how did
+it happen we heard you?"
+
+"I was in a rocky place when that tornado came and it was near the
+water. I had just sense enough left to know they could protect me and
+crept under them. Oh! that was awful--awful!"
+
+"It must have been, but I was so deep in our cave that I heard but
+little of it. Uncle and Angelique thought I was out in it and lost.
+They suffered about it, and uncle tried to make a fire and was sick.
+We had just got home when we heard you."
+
+"After the storm I crawled out and I saw you in the boat. You seemed
+to have come right out of the earth and I shouted, or tried to. I kept
+on shouting, even after you were out of sight and then I got
+discouraged and tried once more to find a road out."
+
+"I was singing so loud I suppose I didn't hear, at first. I'm so
+sorry. But it's all right now. You're safe, and some way will be found
+to get you to your home, or that lumber camp, if you'd rather."
+
+"Suppose I do not wish to go to either place? What then?"
+
+Margot stared. "Not--wish--to go--to your own dear--home?"
+
+The stranger smiled at the amazement of her face.
+
+"Maybe not. Especially as I don't know how I would be received there.
+What if I was foolish and didn't know when I was well off? What if I
+ran away, meaning to stay away forever?"
+
+"Well, if it hadn't been for the rocks, and me, it would have been
+forever. But God made the rocks and gave them to you for a shelter;
+and He made me, and sent me out on the lake so you should see me and
+be found. If He wants you to go back to that home He'll find a way.
+Now, it's queer. Here we've been talking ever so long yet I don't know
+who you are. You know all of us: Uncle Hugh Dutton, Angelique Ricord,
+and me. I'm Margot Romeyn. What is your name?"
+
+"Mine? Oh! I'm Adrian Wadislaw. A good-for-nought, some people say.
+Young Wadislaw, the sinner, son of old Wadislaw, the saint."
+
+The answer was given recklessly, while the dark young face grew sadly
+bitter and defiant.
+
+After a moment, something startled Margot from the shocked surprise
+with which she had heard this harsh reply. It was a sigh, almost a
+groan, as from one who had been more deeply startled even than
+herself. Turning, she saw the master standing in the doorway, staring
+at their visitor as if he had seen a ghost and nearly as white as one
+himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+IN ALADDIN LAND
+
+
+It seemed to Margot, watching, that it was an endless time her uncle
+stood there gazing with that startled look upon their guest. In
+reality it was but a moment. Then he passed his hand over his eyes, as
+one who would brush away a mist, and came forward. He was still unduly
+pale, but he spoke in a courteous, almost natural manner, and quietly
+accepted the chair Margot hastened to bring him.
+
+"You are getting rested, Mr.----"
+
+"Oh! please don't 'Mister' me, sir. You've been so good to me and
+I'm not used to the title. Though, in my scratches and wood-dirt,
+his young lady did take me for an old fellow. Yes, thanks to her
+thoughtfulness, I've found myself again, and I'm just 'Adrian,' if
+you'll be so kind."
+
+There was something very winning in this address, and it suited
+the elder man well. The stranger was scarcely out of boyhood and
+reminded the old collegian of other lads whom he had known and loved.
+"Wadislaw" was not a particularly pleasing name that one should dwell
+upon it, unless necessary. "Adrian" was better and far more common.
+Neither did it follow that this person was of a family he remembered
+far too well; and so Mr. Dutton reassured himself. In any case the
+youth was now "the stranger within the gates" and therefore entitled
+to the best.
+
+"Adrian, then. We are a simple household, following the old habit of
+early to bed and to rise. You must be tired enough to sleep anywhere,
+and there is another big lounge in my study. You would best occupy it
+to-night, and to-morrow Angelique will fix you better quarters. Few
+guests favor us in our far-away home," he finished with a smile that
+was full of hospitality.
+
+Adrian rose at once and bidding Margot and Angelique good-night,
+followed his host into a big room which, save for the log walls, might
+have been the library of some city home. It was a room which somehow
+gave him the impression of vastness, liberality, and freedom--an
+enclosed bit of the outside forest. Like each of the other apartments
+he had seen it had its great fireplace and its blazing logs, not at
+all uncomfortable now in the chill that had come after the storm.
+
+But he was too worn out to notice much more than these details, and
+without undressing, dropped upon the lounge and drew the Indian
+blanket over him. His head rested upon great pillows stuffed with
+fragrant spruce needles, and this perfume of the woods soothed him
+into instant sleep.
+
+But Hugh Dutton stood for many minutes, gravely studying the face of
+the unconscious stranger. It was a comely, intelligent face, though
+marred by self-will and indulgence, and with each passing second its
+features grew more and more painfully familiar. Why, why, had it come
+into his distant retreat to disturb his peace? A peace that it had
+taken fifteen years of life to gain, that had been achieved only by
+bitter struggle with self and with all that was lowest in a noble
+nature.
+
+"Alas! And I believed I had at last learned to forgive!"
+
+But none the less because of the bitterness would this man be unjust.
+His very flesh recoiled from contact with that other flesh, fair as it
+might be in the sight of most eyes, yet he forced himself to draw with
+utmost gentleness the covering over the sleeper's shoulders, and to
+interpose a screening chair between him and the firelight.
+
+"Well, one may at least control his actions, if not his thoughts," he
+murmured and quietly left the place.
+
+A few moments later he stood regarding Margot, also, as she lay in
+sleep, and all the love of his strong nature rose to protect her from
+the sorrow which she would have to bear some time but--not yet! Oh!
+not yet! Then he turned quickly and went out of doors.
+
+There had been nights in this woodlander's life when no roof could
+cover him. When even the forest seemed to suffocate, and when he had
+found relief only upon the bald bare top of that rocky height which
+crowned the island. On such nights he had gone out early and come home
+with the daybreak, and none had known of his absence, save, now and
+then, the faithful Angelique, who knew the master's story but kept it
+to herself.
+
+Margot had never guessed of these midnight expeditions, nor understood
+the peculiar love and veneration her guardian had for that mountain
+top. She better loved the depths of the wonderful forest, with its
+flowers and ferns, and its furred or feathered creatures. She was
+dreaming of these, the next morning, when her uncle's cheery whistle
+called her to get up.
+
+A cold plunge, a swift dressing, and she was with him, seeing no
+signs of either illness or sorrow in his genial face, and eager with
+plans for the coming day. All her days were delightful, but this would
+be best of all.
+
+"To think, uncle dear, that somebody else has come at last to see our
+island! why, there's so much to show him I can hardly wait, nor know
+where best to begin."
+
+"Suppose, Miss Impatience, we begin with breakfast? Here comes Adrian.
+Ask his opinion."
+
+"Never was so hungry in my life!" agreed that youth, as he came
+hastily forward to bid them both good-morning. "I mean--not since
+last night. I wonder if a fellow that's been half-starved, or
+three-quarters even, will ever get his appetite down to normal again?
+It seems to me I could eat a whole wild animal at a sitting!"
+
+"So you shall, boy. So you shall!" cried Angelique, who now came in
+carrying a great dish of browned and smoking fish. This she placed at
+her master's end of the table and flanked it with another platter of
+daintily crisped potatoes. There were heaps of delicate biscuits, with
+coffee and cakes galore; enough, the visitor thought, to satisfy even
+his own extravagant hunger, and again he wondered at such fare in such
+a wilderness.
+
+"Why, this might be a hotel table!" he exclaimed, in unfeigned
+pleasure. "Not much like lumberman's fare: salt pork, bad bread,
+molasses-sweetened tea, and the everlasting beans. I hope I shall
+never have to look another bean in the face! But that coffee! I never
+smelled anything so delicious."
+
+"Had some last night," commented Angelique, shortly. She perceived
+that this stranger was in some way obnoxious to her beloved master,
+and she resented the surprise with which he had seen her take her own
+place behind the tray. Her temper seemed fairly cross-edged that
+morning and Margot remarked:
+
+"Don't mind mother. She's dreadfully disappointed that nobody died and
+no bad luck followed her breaking a mirror, yesterday."
+
+"No bad luck?" demanded Angelique, looking at Adrian with so marked a
+manner that it spoke volumes. "And as for dyin'--you've but to go into
+the woods and you'll see."
+
+Here Tom created a diversion by entering and limping straight to the
+stranger's side, who moved away, then blushed at his own timidity,
+seeing the amusement with which the others regarded him.
+
+"Oh! we're all one family here, servants and ever'body," cried the
+woman, tossing the eagle a crumb of biscuit.
+
+But the big bird was not to be drawn from his scrutiny of this new
+face; and the gravity of his unwinking gaze was certainly
+disconcerting.
+
+"Get out, you uncanny creature! Beg pardon, Miss Margot, but I'm--he
+seems to have a special grudge against me."
+
+"Oh! no. He doesn't understand who you are, yet. We had a man here
+last year, helping uncle, and Tom acted just as he does now. Though
+he never would make friends with the Canadian, as I hope he will with
+you."
+
+Angelique flashed a glance toward the girl. Why should she, or anybody
+speak as if this lad's visit were to be a prolonged one? And they had,
+both she and the master. He had bidden the servant fill a fresh "tick"
+with the dried and shredded fern leaves and pine needles, such as
+supplied their own mattresses; and to put all needful furnishings into
+the one disused room of the cabin.
+
+"But, master! When you've always acted as if that were bein' kept for
+somebody who was comin' some day. Somebody you love!" she protested.
+
+"I have settled the matter, Angelique. Don't fear that I've not
+thought it all out. 'Do unto others,' you know. For each day its duty,
+its battle with self, and, please God, its victory."
+
+"He's a saint, ever'body knows; and there's somethin' behind all this
+I don't understand!" she had muttered, but had also done his bidding,
+still complaining.
+
+Commonly, meals were leisurely affairs in that forest home, but on
+this morning Mr. Dutton set an example of haste that the others
+followed; and as soon as their appetites were satisfied he rose and
+said:
+
+"I'll show you your own room now, Adrian. Occupy it as long as you
+wish. And find something to amuse yourself with while I am gone; for I
+have much to do out of doors. It was the worst storm, for its
+duration, that ever struck us. Fortunately, most of the outbuildings
+need only repairs, but Snowfoot's home is such a wreck she must have a
+new one. Margot, will you run up the signal for Pierre?"
+
+"Yes, indeed! Though I believe he will come without it. He'll be
+curious about the tornado, too, and it's near his regular visiting
+time."
+
+The room assigned to Adrian excited his fresh surprise; though he
+assured himself that he would be amazed at nothing further, when he
+saw lying upon a table in the middle of the floor, two complete suits
+of clothing, apparently placed there by the thoughtful host for his
+guest to use. They were not of the latest style, but perfectly new and
+bore the stamp of a well-known tailor of his own city.
+
+"Where did he get them, and so soon? What a mammoth of a house it is,
+though built of logs. And isn't it the most fitting and beautiful of
+houses, after all? Whence came those comfortable chairs? and the
+books? Most of all, where and how did he get that wonderful picture
+over that magnificent log mantel? It looks like a room made ready for
+the unexpected coming of some prodigal son! I'm that, sure enough; but
+not of this household. If I were--well, maybe---- Oh! hum!"
+
+The lad crossed the floor and gazed reverently at the solitary
+painting which the room contained. A marvelously lifelike head of the
+Man of Sorrows, bending forward and gazing upon the onlooker with eyes
+of infinite tenderness and appealing. Beneath it ran the inscription:
+"Come Unto Me"; and in one corner was the artist's signature--a broken
+pine branch.
+
+"Whew! I wonder if that fellow ran away from home because he loved a
+brush and paint tube! What sort of a spot have I strayed into, anyway?
+A paradise? Hmm. I wish the mater could see me now. She'd not be so
+unhappy over her unworthy son, maybe. Bless her, anyhow. If everybody
+had been like her----"
+
+He finished his soliloquy before an open window, through which he
+could see the summit of the bare mountain that crowned the centre of
+the island, and was itself crowned by a single pine-tree. Though many
+of its branches had been lopped away, enough were left to form a sort
+of spiral stairway up its straight trunk and to its lofty top.
+
+"What a magnificent flagstaff that would make! I'd like to see Old
+Glory floating there. Believe I'll suggest it to the magician--that's
+what this woodlander is--and doubtless he'll attend to that little
+matter! Shades of Aladdin!"
+
+[Illustration: SHE UNROLLED THE STARS AND STRIPES]
+
+Adrian was so startled that he dropped into a chair, the better to
+sustain himself against further Arabian-nights-like discoveries.
+
+It was a flagstaff! Somebody was climbing it--Margot! Up, up, like a
+squirrel, her blond head appearing first on one side then the other, a
+glowing budget strapped to her back.
+
+Adrian gasped. No sailor could have been more fleet or sure-footed. It
+seemed but a moment before that slender figure had scaled the topmost
+branch and was unrolling the brilliant burden it had borne. The stars
+and stripes, of course. Adrian would have been bitterly disappointed
+if it had been anything else this agile maiden hoisted from that dizzy
+height.
+
+In wild excitement and admiration the watcher leaned out of his
+window and shouted hoarsely:
+
+"Hurrah! H-u-r-rah! H-U-R----!"
+
+The cheer died in his throat. Something had happened. Something too
+awful to contemplate. Adrian's eyes closed that he might not see. Had
+her foot slipped? Had his own cry reached and startled her?
+
+For she was falling--falling! and the end could be but one.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+A ONE-SIDED STORY
+
+
+Adrian was not a gymnast though he had seen and admired many wonderful
+feats performed by his own classmates. But he had never beheld a
+miracle, and such he believed had been accomplished when, upon
+reaching the foot of that terrible tree, he found Margot sitting
+beneath it, pale and shaken, but, apparently, unhurt.
+
+She had heard his breathless crashing up the slope and greeted him
+with a smile, and the tremulous question:
+
+"How did you know where I was?"
+
+"You aren't--dead?"
+
+"Certainly not. I might have been, though, but God took care."
+
+"Was it my cheers frightened you?"
+
+"Was it you, then? I heard something, different from the wood sounds,
+and I looked quick to see. Then my foot slipped and I went down--a
+way. I caught a branch just in time and, please, don't tell uncle. I'd
+rather do that myself."
+
+"You should never do such a thing. The idea of a girl climbing trees
+at all, least of any, such a tree as that!"
+
+He threw his head back and looked upward, through the green spiral to
+the brilliant sky. The enormous height revived the horror he had felt
+as he leaped through the window and rushed to the mountain.
+
+"Who planned such a death-trap as that, anyway?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"You! A girl!"
+
+"Yes. Why not. It's great fun, usually."
+
+"You'd better have been learning to sew."
+
+"I can sew, but I don't like it. Angelique does that. I do like
+climbing and canoeing and botanizing, and geologizing, and
+astronomizing, and----"
+
+Adrian threw up his hands in protest.
+
+"What sort of creature are you, anyway?"
+
+"Just plain girl."
+
+"Anything but that!"
+
+"Well, girl, without the adjective. Suits me rather better;" and she
+laughed in a way that proved she was not suffering from her mishap.
+
+"This is the strangest place I ever saw. You are the strangest family.
+We are certainly in the backwoods of Maine, yet you might be a Holyoke
+senior, or a circus star, or--a fairy."
+
+Margot stretched her long arms and looked at them quizzically.
+
+"Fairies don't grow so big. Why don't you sit down? Or, if you will,
+climb up and look toward the narrows on the north. See if Pierre's
+birch is coming yet."
+
+Again Adrian glanced upward, to the flag floating there, and shrugged
+his shoulders.
+
+"Excuse me, please. That is, I suppose I could do it, only seeing you
+slip--I prefer to wait awhile."
+
+"Are you afraid?"
+
+There was no sarcasm in the question. She asked it in all sincerity.
+Adrian was different from Pierre, the only other boy she knew, and she
+simply wondered if tree-climbing were among his unknown
+accomplishments.
+
+It had been, to the extent possible with his city training and his
+brief summer vacations, though unpracticed of late; but no lad of
+spirit, least of all impetuous Adrian, could bear even the suggestion
+of cowardice. He did not sit down, as she had bidden, but tossed aside
+his rough jacket and leaped to the lower branch of the pine.
+
+"Why, it's easy! It's grand!" he called back and went up swiftly
+enough.
+
+Indeed, it was not so difficult as it appeared from a distance.
+Wherever the branches failed the spiral ladder had been perfected by
+great spikes driven into the trunk and he had but to clasp these in
+turn to make a safe ascent. At the top he waved his hand, then shaded
+his eyes and peered northward.
+
+"He's coming! Somebody's coming!" he shouted. "There's a little boat
+pushing off from that other shore."
+
+Then he descended with a rapidity that delighted even himself and
+called a bit of praise from Margot.
+
+"I'm so glad you can climb. One can see so much more from the
+tree-tops; and, oh! there is so much, so much to find out all the
+time! Isn't there?"
+
+"Yes. Decidedly. One of the things I'd like to find out first is who
+you are and how you came here. If you're willing."
+
+Then he added, rather hastily: "Of course, I don't want to be
+impertinently curious. It only seems so strange to find such educated
+people buried here in the north woods. I don't see how you live here.
+I--I----"
+
+But the more he tried to explain the more confused he grew, and Margot
+merrily simplified matters by declaring:
+
+"You are curious, all the same, and so am I. Let's tell each other all
+about everything and then we'll start straight without the bother of
+stopping as we go along. Do sit down and I'll begin."
+
+"Ready."
+
+"There's so little, I shan't be long. My dear mother was Cecily
+Dutton, my Uncle Hugh's twin. My father was Philip Romeyn, uncle's
+closest friend. They were almost more than brothers to each other,
+always; though uncle was a student and, young as he was, a professor
+at Columbia. Papa was a business man, a banker, or a cashier in a
+bank. He wasn't rich, but mamma and uncle had money. From the time
+they were boys uncle and papa were fond of the woods. They were great
+hunters, then, and spent all the time they could get up here in
+northern Maine. After the marriage mamma begged to come with them, and
+it was her money bought this island, and the land along the shore of
+this lake as far as we can see from here. Much farther, too, of
+course, because the trees hide things. They built this log cabin and
+it cost a great, great deal to do it. They had to bring the workmen so
+far, but it was finished at last, and everything was brought up here
+to make it--just as you see."
+
+"What an ideal existence!"
+
+"Was it? I don't know much about ideals, though uncle talks of them
+sometimes. It was real, that's all. They were very, very happy. They
+loved each other so dearly. Angelique came from Canada to keep the
+house and she says my mother was the sweetest woman she ever saw. Oh!
+I wish--I wish I could have seen her! Or that I might remember her.
+I'll show you her portrait. It hangs in my own room."
+
+"Did she die?"
+
+"Yes. When I was a year old. My father had passed away before that,
+and my mother was broken-hearted. Even for uncle and me she could not
+bear to live. It was my father's wish that we should come up here to
+stay, and Uncle Hugh left everything and came. I was to be reared 'in
+the wilderness, where nothing evil comes,' was what both my parents
+said. So I have been, and--that's all."
+
+Adrian was silent for some moments. The girl's face had grown dreamy
+and full of a pathetic tenderness as it always did when she discussed
+her unknown father and mother, even with Angelique. Though, in
+reality, she had not been allowed to miss what she had never known.
+Then she looked up with a smile and observed:
+
+"Your turn."
+
+"Yes--I--suppose so. May as well give the end of my story first----
+I'm a runaway."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"No matter why."
+
+"That isn't fair."
+
+He parried the indignation of her look by some further questions of
+his own. "Have you always lived here?"
+
+"Always."
+
+"You go to the towns sometimes, I suppose."
+
+"I've never seen a town, except in pictures."
+
+"Whew! Don't you have any friends? Any girls come to see you?"
+
+"I never saw a girl, only myself in that poor broken glass of
+Angelique's; and, of course, the pictured ones--as of the towns--in
+the books."
+
+"You poor child!"
+
+Margot's brown face flushed. She wanted nobody's pity and she had not
+felt that her life was a singular or narrow one, till this outsider
+came. A wish very like Angelique's, that he had stayed where he
+belonged, arose in her heart, but she dismissed it as inhospitable.
+
+"I'm not poor. Not in the least. I have everything any girl could want
+and I have--uncle! He is the best, the wisest, the noblest man in all
+the world. I know it, and so Angelique says. She's been in your
+towns, if you please. Lived in them and says she never knew what
+comfort meant until she came to Peace Island and us. You don't
+understand."
+
+Margot was more angry than she had ever been, and anger made her
+decidedly uncomfortable. She sprang up hastily, saying:
+
+"If you've nothing to tell, I must go. I want to get into the forest
+and look after my friends there. The storm may have hurt them."
+
+She was off down the mountain, as swift and sure-footed as if it were
+not a rough pathway that made him blunder along very slowly. For he
+followed, at once, feeling that he had not been "fair," as she had
+accused, in his report of himself; and that only a complete confidence
+was due these people who had treated him so kindly.
+
+"Margot! Margot! Wait a minute! You're too swift for me! I want
+to----"
+
+Just there he caught his foot in a running vine, stumbled over a
+hidden rock, and measured his length, head downward, on the slope. He
+was not hurt, however, though vexed and mortified. But when he had
+picked himself up and looked around the girl had vanished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A WOODLAND MENAGERIE
+
+
+"Hoo-ah! Yo-ho! H-e-r-e! This--way!"
+
+Adrian followed the voice. It led him aside into the woods on the
+eastern slope, and it was accompanied by an indescribable babel of
+noises. Running water, screaming of wild fowl, cooing of pigeons,
+barking of dogs or some other beasts, cackling, chattering, laughter.
+
+All the sounds of wild life had ceased suddenly in the tree-tops, as
+Adrian approached, recognizing and fearing his alien presence. But
+they were reassured by Margot's familiar summons, and soon the
+"menagerie" he had suspected was gathered about her.
+
+"Whew! It just rains squirrels--and chipmunks--and birds! Hello!
+That's a fawn. That's a fox! As sure as I'm alive, a magnificent red
+fox! Why isn't he eating the whole outfit? And---- Hurra!"
+
+To the amazement of the watcher there came from the depths of the
+woods a sound that always thrills the pulses of any hunter--the cry of
+a moose-calf, accompanied by a soft crashing of branches, growing
+gradually louder.
+
+"So they tame even the moose--these wonderful people! What next!" and
+as Adrian leaned forward the better to watch the advance of this
+uncommon "pet," the "next" concerning which he had speculated also
+approached. Slowly up the river bank, stalked a pair of blue herons,
+and for them Margot had her warmest welcome.
+
+"Heigho, Xanthippé, Socrates! What laggards! But here's your
+breakfast, or one of them. I suppose you've eaten the other long ago.
+Indeed, you're always eating, gourmands!"
+
+The red fox eyed the newcomers with a longing eye and crept cautiously
+to his mistress' side as she coaxed the herons nearer. But she was
+always prepared for any outbreak of nature among her forest friends,
+and drew him also close to her with the caressing touch she might have
+bestowed upon a beloved house-dog.
+
+"Reynard, you beauty! Your head in my lap, sir;" and dropping to a
+sitting posture, she forced him to obey her. There he lay, winking but
+alert, while she scattered her store of good things right and left.
+There were nuts for the squirrels and 'munks, grains and seeds for the
+winged creatures, and for the herons, as well as Reynard, a few bits
+of dried meat. But for Browser, the moose-calf, she pulled the tender
+twigs and foliage with a lavish hand. When she had given some dainty
+to each of her oddly assorted pets, she sprang up, closed the box, and
+waved her arms in dismissal. The more timid of the creatures obeyed
+her, but some held their ground persistently, hoping for greater
+favors. To these she paid no further attention, and still keeping
+hold of Reynard's neck started back to her human guest.
+
+The fox, however, declined to accompany her. He distrusted strangers
+and it may be had designs of his own upon some other forest wilding.
+
+"That's the worst of it. We tame them and they love us. But they are
+only conquered, not changed. Isn't Reynard beautiful? Doesn't he look
+noble? as noble as a St. Bernard dog? If you'll believe me, that
+fellow is thoroughly acquainted with every one of Angelique's fowls,
+and knows he must never, never touch them, yet he'd eat one, quick as
+a flash, if he got a chance. He's a coward, though; and by his
+cowardice we manage him. Sometimes;" sighed Margot, who had led the
+way into a little path toward the lake.
+
+"How odd! You seem actually grieved at this state of things."
+
+"Why shouldn't I be? I love him and I have a notion that love will do
+anything with anybody or anything. I do believe it will, but that I
+haven't found just the right way of showing it. Uncle laughs at me, a
+little, but helps me all he can. Indeed, it is he who has tamed most
+of our pets. He says it is the very best way to study natural
+history."
+
+"Hmm. He intends your education shall be complete!"
+
+"Of course. But one thing troubles him. He cannot teach me music. And
+you seem surprised. Aren't girls, where you come from, educated?
+Doesn't everybody prize knowledge?"
+
+"That depends. Our girls are educated, of course. They go to college
+and all that, but I think you'd down any of them in exams. For my own
+part, I ran away just because I did not want this famous 'education'
+you value. That is, I didn't of a certain sort. I wasn't fair with you
+awhile ago, you said. I'd like to tell you my story now."
+
+"I'd like to hear it, of course. But, look yonder! Did you ever see
+anything like that?"
+
+Margot was proud of the surprises she was able to offer this stranger
+in her woods, and pointed outward over the lake. They had just come to
+an open place on the shore and the water spread before them sparkling
+in the sunlight. Something was crossing the smooth surface, heading
+straight for their island, and of a nature to make Adrian cry out:
+
+"Oh! for a gun!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+KING MADOC
+
+
+"If you had one you should not use it! Are you a dreadful hunter?"
+
+Margot had turned upon her guest with a defiant fear. As near as she
+had ever come to hating anything she hated the men, of whom she had
+heard, who used this wonderful northland as a murder ground. That was
+what she named it, in her uncompromising judgment of those who killed
+for the sake of killing, for the lust of blood that was in them.
+
+"Yes. I reckon I am a 'dreadful' hunter, for I am a mighty poor shot.
+But I'd like a try at that fellow. What horns! What a head! And how
+can that fellow in the canoe keep so close to him, yet not finish
+him!"
+
+Adrian was so excited he could not stand still. His eyes gleamed, his
+hands clenched, and his whole appearance was changed. Greatly for the
+worse, the girl thought, regarding him with disgust.
+
+"Finish him? That's King Madoc, Pierre's trained bull-moose. You'd be
+finished yourself, I fear, if you harmed that splendid creature.
+Pierre's a lazy fellow, mostly, but he spent a long time teaching
+Madoc, and with his temper--I'm thankful you lost your gun."
+
+"Do you never shoot things up here? I saw you giving the fox and
+herons what looked like meat. You had a stew for supper, and fish for
+breakfast. I don't mean to be impertinent, but the sight of that big
+game---- Whew!"
+
+"Yes. We do kill things, or have them killed, when it is necessary for
+food. Never in sport. Man is almost the only animal who does that.
+It's all terrible, seems to me. Everything preys upon something else,
+weaker than itself. Sometimes when I think of it my dinner chokes me.
+It's so easy to take life, and only God can create it. But uncle says
+it is also God's law to take what is provided, and that there is no
+mistake, even if it seems such to me."
+
+But there Margot perceived that Adrian was not listening. Instead, he
+was watching, with the intensest interest, the closer approach of the
+canoe, in which sat idle Pierre, holding the reins of a harness
+attached to his aquatic steed. The moose swam easily, with powerful
+strokes, and Pierre was singing a gay melody, richer in his unique
+possession than any king.
+
+When he touched the shore and the great animal stood shaking his wet
+hide, Adrian's astonishment found vent in a whirlwind of questions
+that Pierre answered at his leisure and after his kind. But he walked
+first toward Margot and offered a great bunch of trailing arbutus
+flowers, saying:
+
+"I saw these just as I pushed off and went back after them. What's the
+matter here, that the flag is up? It was the biggest storm I ever
+saw. Yes. A deal of beasties are killed back on the mainland. Any dead
+over here?"
+
+"No, I am glad to say, none that we know of. But Snowfoot's shed is
+down and uncle is going to build a new one. I hope you've come to
+work."
+
+Pierre laughed and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Oh! yes."
+
+But his interest in work was far less than in the stranger whom he now
+answered, and whose presence on Peace Island was a mystery to him.
+Heretofore, the only visitors there had been laborers or traders, but
+this young fellow so near his own age, despite his worn clothing, was
+of another sort. He recognized this, at once, as Margot had done, and
+his curiosity made him ask:
+
+"Where'd you come from? Hurricane blow you out the sky?"
+
+"About the same. I was lost in the woods and Margot found me and saved
+my life. What'll you take for that moose?"
+
+"There isn't money enough in the state of Maine to buy him!"
+
+"Nonsense. Well, if there was I haven't it. But you could get a good
+price for it anywhere."
+
+Pierre looked Adrian over. From his appearance the lad was not likely
+to be possessed of much cash, but the moose-trainer was eager for
+capital, and never missed an opportunity of seeking it.
+
+"I want to go into the show business. What do you say? would you
+furnish the tents and fixings? And share the profits. I'm no scholar,
+but maybe you'd know enough to get out the hand-bills and so on. What
+do you say?"
+
+"I--say---- What you mean, Pierre Ricord, keepin' the master waitin',
+your foolishness, and him half sick? What kept you twice as long as
+you ought? Hurry up, now, and put that moose in the cow-yard and get
+to work."
+
+The interruption was caused by Angelique, and it was curious to see
+the fear with which she inspired the great fellow, her son. He forgot
+the stranger, the show business, and all his own immediate interests,
+and with the docility of a little child obeyed. Unhitching his odd
+steed, he turned the canoe bottom upward on the beach and hastily led
+the animal toward that part of the island clearing, where Snowfoot
+stood in a little fenced-in lot behind her ruined shed.
+
+Adrian went with him, and asked:
+
+"Won't those two animals fight?"
+
+"Won't get a chance. When one goes in the other goes out. Here, bossy,
+you can take the range of the island. Get out!"
+
+She was more willing to go than Madoc to enter the cramped place, but
+the transfer was made and Adrian lingered by the osier paling, to
+observe at close range this subjugated monarch of the forest.
+
+"Oh! for a palette and brush!" he exclaimed, while Pierre walked away.
+
+"What would you do with them?"
+
+Margot had followed the lads and was beside him, though he had not
+heard her footsteps. Now he wheeled about, eager, enthusiastic.
+
+"Paint--as I have never painted before!"
+
+"Oh!--are you an--artist?"
+
+"I want to be one. That's why I'm here."
+
+"What? What do you mean?"
+
+"I told you I was a runaway. I didn't say 'why,' before. It's truth.
+My people, my--father--forced me to college. I hated it. He was
+forcing me to business. I liked art. All my friends were artists. When
+I should have been at the books I was in their studios. They were a
+gay crowd, spent money like water when they had it, merrily starved
+and pinched when they hadn't. A few were worse than spendthrifts, and
+with my usual want of sense I made that particular set my intimates. I
+never had any money, though, after it was suspected what my tastes
+were. Except a little that my mother gave me."
+
+Margot was listening breathlessly and watching intently. At the
+mention of his mother a shadow crossed Adrian's face, softening and
+bettering it, and his whole mood seemed to change.
+
+Their talk drifted from vexing subjects to merry anecdotes of Adrian's
+childhood, in the home where he had been the petted only brother of a
+half-dozen elder sisters. But while they laughed and Margot listened,
+her fingers were busy weaving a great garland of wild laurel, and when
+it was finished she rose and said:
+
+"It's getting late. There'll be just time to take this to the grave.
+Will you go with me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+But this was another of the puzzling things he found at Peace Island.
+In its very loveliest nook was the last resting-place of Cecily
+Romeyn, and the sacred spot was always beautiful with flowers, or in
+the winter, with brilliant berries. Both the master and the girl spoke
+of their dead as if she were still present with them; or at least
+lived as if she were only removed from sight but not from their lives.
+
+When Margot had laid the fresh wreath upon the mound, she carefully
+removed the faded flowers of the day before, and a thought of his own
+mother stirred Adrian's heart.
+
+"I wish I could send a bunch of such blossoms to my mother!"
+
+"How can you live without her, since she is still alive?"
+
+His face hardened again.
+
+"You forget. I told you that she, too, turned against me at the last.
+It was a case of husband or son, and she made her choice."
+
+"Oh! no. She was unhappy. One may do strange things, then, I suppose.
+But I tell you one thing, if I had either father or mother, anywhere
+in this world, nothing should ever, ever make me leave them. Nothing.
+I would bear anything, do anything, suffer anything--but I would be
+true to them. I could not forget that I was their child, and if I had
+done wrong to them my whole life would be too short to make
+atonement."
+
+She spoke strongly, as she felt. So early orphaned, she had come to
+think of parents as the most wonderful blessing in the power of God to
+leave one. She loved her Uncle Hugh like a second father, but her
+tenderest dreams were over the pictured faces of her dead.
+
+"Where is your father buried?"
+
+It was the simplest, most natural question.
+
+"I--don't--know."
+
+They stared at one another. It was proof of her childlike acceptance
+of her life that she had never asked. Had never thought to do so,
+even. She had been told that he had "passed out of sight" before they
+came to Peace Island and the forest, and had asked no further
+concerning him. Of his character and habits she had heard much. Her
+uncle was never weary in extolling his virtues; but of his death he
+had said only what has been written.
+
+"But--I must know right away!"
+
+In her eagerness she ran, and Adrian followed as swiftly. He was sorry
+for his thoughtless inquiry, but regret came too late. He tried to
+call Margot back, but she would not wait.
+
+"I must know. I must know right away. Why have I never known before?"
+
+Hugh Dutton was resting after a day of study and mental labor, and his
+head leaned easily upon his cushioned chair. Yet as his dear child
+entered his room he held out his arms to draw her to his knee.
+
+"In a minute, uncle. But Adrian has asked me something and it is the
+strangest thing that I cannot answer him. Where is my father buried?"
+
+If she had dealt him a mortal blow he could not have turned more
+white. With a groan that pierced her very heart, he stared at Margot
+with wide, unseeing eyes; then sprang to his feet and fixed upon poor
+Adrian a look that scorched.
+
+"You! You?" he gasped, and sinking back covered his face with his
+hands.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+PERPLEXITIES
+
+
+What had he done?
+
+Ignorant why his simple question should have had such strange results,
+that piercing look made Adrian feel the veriest culprit, and he
+hastened to leave the room and the cabin. Hurrying to the beach he
+appropriated Margot's little canvas canoe and pushed out upon the
+lake. From her and Pierre he had learned to handle the light craft
+with considerable skill and he now worked off his excitement by swift
+paddling, so that there was soon a wide distance between him and the
+island.
+
+Then he paused and looked around him, upon as fair a scene as could
+be found in any land. Unbroken forests bounded this hidden Lake
+Profundis, out of whose placid waters rose that mountain-crowned,
+verdure-clad Island of Peace, with its picturesque home, and its
+cultured owner, who had brought into this best of the wilderness the
+best of civilization.
+
+"What is this mystery? How am I concerned in it? For I am, and mystery
+there is. It is like that mist over the island, which I can see and
+feel but cannot touch. Pshaw! I'm getting sentimental, when I ought to
+be turning detective. Yet I couldn't do that--pry into the private
+affairs of a man who's treated me so generously. What shall I do? How
+can I go back there? But where else can I go?"
+
+At thought that he might never return to the roof he had quitted, a
+curious homesickness seized him.
+
+"Who'll hunt what game they need? Who'll catch their fish? Who'll keep
+the garden growing? Where can I study the forest and its furry people,
+at first hand, as in the Hollow? And I was doing well. Not as I hope
+to do, but getting on. Margot was a merciless critic, but even she
+admitted that my last picture had the look, the spirit of the woods.
+That's what I want to do, what Mr. Dutton, also, approved; to bring
+glimpses of these solitudes back to the cities and the thousands who
+can never see them in any other way. Well--let it go. I can't stay and
+be a torment to anybody, and some time, in some other place, maybe----
+Ah!"
+
+What he had mistaken for the laughter of a loon was Pierre's halloo.
+He was coming back, then, from the mainland where he had been absent
+these past days. Adrian was thankful. There was nothing mysterious or
+perplexing about Pierre, whose rule of life was extremely simple.
+
+"Pierre first, second, and forever. After Pierre, if there was
+anything left, then--anybody, the nearest at hand;" would have
+expressed the situation; but his honest, unblushing selfishness was
+sometimes a relief.
+
+"One always knows just where to find Pierre," Margot had said.
+
+So Adrian's answering halloo was prompt, and turning about he watched
+the birch leaving the shadow of the forest and heading for himself. It
+was soon alongside and Ricord's excited voice was shouting his good
+news:
+
+"Run him up to seven hundred and fifty!"
+
+"But I thought there wasn't money enough anywhere to buy him!"
+
+Pierre cocked his dark head on one side and winked.
+
+"Madoc sick and Madoc well are different."
+
+"Oh! you wretch. Would you sell a sick moose and cheat the buyer?"
+
+"Would I lose such a pile of money for foolishness? I guess not."
+
+"But suppose, after you parted with him, he got well?"
+
+Again the woodlander grinned and winked.
+
+"Could you drive the king?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, that's all right. I buy him back, what you call trade. One do
+that many times, good enough. If----"
+
+Pierre was silent for some moments, during which Adrian had steadily
+paddled backward to the island, keeping time with the other boat, and
+without thinking what he was doing. But when he did remember, he
+turned to Pierre and asked:
+
+"Will you take me across the lake again?"
+
+"What for?"
+
+"No matter. I'll just leave Margot's canoe and you do it. There's time
+enough."
+
+"What'll you give me?"
+
+"Pshaw! What can I give you? Nothing."
+
+"That's all right. My mother, she wants the salt," and he kicked the
+sack of that valuable article, lying at his feet. "There. She's on the
+bank now and it's not she will let me out of sight again, this long
+time."
+
+"You'd go fast enough, for money."
+
+"Maybe not. When one has Angelique Ricord for mére---- Umm."
+
+But it was less for Pierre than for Adrian that Angelique was waiting,
+and her expression was kinder than common.
+
+"Carry that salt to my kitchen cupboard, son, and get to bed. No.
+You've no call to tarry. What the master's word is for his guest is
+nothin' to you."
+
+Pierre's curiosity was roused. Why had Adrian wanted to leave the
+island at nightfall, since there was neither hunting nor fishing to be
+done? Sport for sport's sake, that was forbidden. And what could be
+the message he was not to hear? He meant to learn, and lingered,
+busying himself uselessly in beaching the canoes afresh, after he had
+once carefully turned them bottom side upward; in brushing out
+imaginary dirt, readjusting his own clothing--a task he did not often
+bother with--and in general making himself a nuisance to his impatient
+parent.
+
+But, so long as he remained, she kept silence, till unable to hold
+back her rising anger she stole up behind him, unperceived, and
+administered a sounding box upon his sizable ears.
+
+"Would you? To the cupboard, miserable!" and Adrian could not repress
+a smile at the meekness with which the great woodlander submitted to
+the little woman's authority.
+
+"Xanthippé and Socrates!" he murmured, and Pierre heard him. So,
+grimacing at him from under the heavy sack, called back: "Fifty
+dollar. Tell her fifty dollar."
+
+"What he mean by fifty dollar?" demanded Angelique.
+
+"I suppose something about that 'show' business of his. It is his
+ambition, you know, and I must admit I believe he'd be a success at
+it."
+
+"Pouf! There is more better business than the 'showin'' one, of takin'
+God's beasties into the towns and lettin' the foolish people stare.
+The money comes that way is not good money."
+
+"Oh! yes. It's all right, fair Angelique. But what is the word for
+me?"
+
+"It is: that you come with me, at once, to the master. He will speak
+with you before he sleeps. Yes. And Adrian, lad!"
+
+"Well, Angelique?"
+
+"This is the truth. Remember. When the heart is sore tried the tongue
+is often sharp. There is death. That is a sorrow. God sends it. There
+are sorrows God does not send but the evil one. Death is but joy to
+them. What the master says, answer; and luck light upon your lips."
+
+The lad had never seen the old housekeeper so impressive nor so
+gentle. At the moment it seemed as if she almost liked him, though,
+despite the faithfulness with which she had obeyed her master's wishes
+and served him, he had never before suspected it.
+
+"Thank you, Angelique. I am troubled, too, and I will take care that I
+neither say nor resent anything harsh. More than that, I will go away.
+I have stayed too long, already, though I had hoped I was making
+myself useful. Is he in his own study?"
+
+"Yes, and the little maid is with him. No. There she comes, but she is
+not laughin', no. Oh! the broken glass. Scat, Meroude! Why leap upon
+one to scare the breath out, that way? Pst! 'Tis here that tame
+creatures grow wild and wild ones tame. Scat! I say."
+
+Margot was coming through the rooms, holding Reynard by the collar she
+made him wear whenever he was in the neighborhood of the hen-house,
+and Tom limped listlessly along upon her other side. There was trouble
+and perplexity in the girl's face, and Angelique made a great pretense
+of being angry with the cat, to hide that in her own.
+
+But Margot noticed neither her nor Adrian, and sitting down upon the
+threshold dropped her chin in her hands and fixed her eyes upon the
+darkening lake.
+
+"Why, mistress! The beast here at the cabin, and it nightfall? My poor
+fowls!"
+
+"He's leashed, you see, Angelique. And I'll lock the poultry up, if
+you like," observed Adrian. Anything to delay a little an interview
+from which he shrank with something very like that cowardice of which
+the girl had once accused him.
+
+[Illustration: HER PETS ON EITHER SIDE OF HER]
+
+The housekeeper's ready temper flamed, and she laid an ungentle touch
+upon the stranger's shoulder.
+
+"Go, boy. When Master Hugh commands, 'tis not for such as we to
+disobey."
+
+"All right. I'm going. And I'll remember."
+
+At the inner doorway he turned and looked back. Margot was still
+sitting, thoughtful and motionless, the firelight from the great
+hearth making a Rembrandt-like silhouette of her slight figure against
+the outer darkness and touching her wonderful hair to a flood of
+silver. Reynard and the eagle, the wild foresters her love had tamed,
+stood guard on either side. It was a picture that appealed to Adrian's
+artistic sense and he lingered a little, regarding its "effects," even
+considering what pigments would best convey them.
+
+"Adrian!"
+
+"Yes, Angelique. Yes."
+
+When the door shut behind him Angelique touched her darling's shining
+head, and the toil-stiffened fingers had for it almost a mother's
+tenderness.
+
+"Sweetheart, the bedtime."
+
+"I know. I'm going. Angelique, my uncle sent me from him to-night. It
+was the first time in all my life that I remember."
+
+"Maybe, little stupid, because you've never waited for that, before,
+but were quick enough to see whenever you were not wanted."
+
+"He---- There's something wrong and Adrian is the cause of it.
+I--Angelique, you tell me. Uncle did not hear, or reply, anyway. Where
+is my father buried?"
+
+Angelique was prepared and had her answer ready.
+
+"'Tis not for a servant to reveal what her master hides. No. All will
+come to you in good time. Tarry the master's will. But, that silly
+Pierre! What think you? Is it fifty dollar would be the price of the
+tame blue herons? Hey?"
+
+"No. Nor fifty times fifty. Pierre knows that. Love is more than
+money."
+
+"Sometimes, to some folks. Well, what would you? That son will
+be havin' even me, his old mother, in his 'show,' why not? As a
+cur'osity--the only livin' human bein' can make that ingrate mind.
+Yes. To bed, my child."
+
+Margot rose and housed her pets. This threat of Pierre's, that
+he would eventually carry off the "foresters" and exhibit their
+helplessness to staring crowds, always roused her fiercest
+indignation; and this result was just what Angelique wanted, at
+present, and she murmured her satisfaction:
+
+"Good. That bee will buzz in her ear till she sleeps, and so sound
+she'll hear no dip of the paddle, by and by. Here, Pierre, my son,
+you're wanted."
+
+"What for now? Do leave me be. I'm going to bed. I'm just wore out,
+trot-trottin' from Pontius to Pilate, lugging salt, and----" he
+finished by yawning most prodigiously.
+
+"Firs'-rate sign, that gapin'. Yes. Sign you're healthy and able to do
+all's needed. There's no bed for you this night. Come. Here. Take this
+basket to the beach. If your canoe needs pitchin', pitch it. There's
+the lantern. If one goes into the show business he learns right now
+to work and travel o' nights. Yes. Start. I'll follow and explain."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+DEPARTURE
+
+
+But Adrian need not have dreaded the interview to which his host had
+summoned him. Mr. Dutton's face was a little graver than usual but his
+manner was even more kind. He was a man to whom justice seemed the
+highest good, who had himself suffered most bitterly from injustice.
+He was forcing himself to be perfectly fair with the lad and it was
+even with a smile that he motioned toward an easy-chair opposite
+himself. The chair stood in the direct light of the lamp, but Adrian
+did not notice that.
+
+"Do not fear me, Adrian, though for a moment I forgot myself. For you
+personally--personally--I have only great good will. But---- Will you
+answer my questions, believing that it is a painful necessity which
+compels them?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"One word more. Beyond the fact, which you confided to Margot, that
+you were a runaway I know no details of your past life. I have wished
+not to know and have refrained from any inquiries. I must now break
+that silence. What--is your father's name?"
+
+As he spoke the man's hands gripped the arms of his chair more
+tightly, like one prepared for an unpleasant answer.
+
+"Malachi Wadislaw."
+
+The questioner waited a moment, during which he seemed to be thinking
+profoundly. Then he rallied his own judgment. It was an uncommon name,
+but there might be two men bearing it. That was not impossible.
+
+"Where does he live?"
+
+"Number --, Madison Avenue, New York."
+
+A longer silence than before, broken by a long drawn: "A-ah!" There
+might, indeed, be two men of one name, but not two residing at that
+once familiar locality.
+
+"Adrian, when you asked my niece that question about her father, did
+you--had you---- Tell me what was in your mind."
+
+The lad's face showed nothing but frank astonishment.
+
+"Why, nothing, sir, beyond an idle curiosity. And I'm no end sorry for
+my thoughtlessness. I've seen how tenderly you both watch her mother's
+grave and I wondered where her father's was. That was all. I had no
+business to have done it----"
+
+"It was natural. It was nothing wrong, in itself. But--unfortunately,
+it suggested to Margot what I have studiously kept from her. For
+reasons which I think best to keep to myself, it is impossible to run
+the risk of other questions which may rouse other speculations in her
+mind. I have been truly glad that she could for a time, at least, have
+the companionship of one nearer her own age than Angelique or me, but
+now----"
+
+He paused significantly, and Adrian hastened to complete the
+unfinished sentence.
+
+"Now it is time for her to return to her ordinary way of life. I
+understand you, of course. And I am going away at once. Indeed, I did
+start, not meaning to come back, but--I will--how can I do so, sir? If
+I could swim----"
+
+Mr. Dutton's drawn face softened into something like a smile; and
+again, most gently, he motioned the excited boy to resume his seat. As
+he did so, he opened a drawer of the table and produced a purse that
+seemed to be well filled.
+
+"Wait. There is no such haste, nor are you in such dire need as you
+seem to think. You have worked well and faithfully and relieved me of
+much hard labor that I have not, somehow, felt just equal to. I have
+kept an account for you and, if you will be good enough to see if it
+is right, I will hand you the amount due you."
+
+He pushed a paper toward Adrian who would not, at first, touch it.
+
+"You owe me nothing, sir, nor can I take anything. I thank you for
+your hospitality and some time----" he stopped, choked, and made a
+telling gesture. It said plainly enough that his pride was just then
+deeply humiliated but that he would have his revenge at some future
+day.
+
+"Sit down, lad. I do not wonder at your feeling, nor would you at
+mine if you knew all. Under other circumstances we should have been
+the best of friends. It is impossible for me to be more explicit,
+and it hurts my pride as much to bid you go as yours to be sent.
+Some time--but no matter. What we have in hand is to arrange for
+your departure as speedily and comfortably as possible. I would
+suggest----" but his words had the force of a command--"that Pierre
+convey you to the nearest town from which, by stage or railway, you
+can reach any further place you choose. If I were to offer advice, it
+would be to go home. Make your peace there; and then, if you desire a
+life in the woods, seek such with the consent and approval of those
+to whom your duty is due."
+
+Adrian said nothing at first; then remarked:
+
+"Pierre need not go so far. Across the lake, to the mainland is
+enough. I can travel on foot afterward, and I know more about the
+forest now than when I lost myself and you, or Margot, found me. I owe
+my life to you. I am sorry I have given you pain. Sorry for many
+things."
+
+"There are few who have not something to regret; for anything that has
+happened here no apology is necessary. As for saving life, that was by
+God's will. Now--to business. You will see that I have reckoned your
+wages the same as Pierre's: thirty dollars a month and 'found,' as the
+farmers say, though it has been much more difficult to find him than
+you. You have been here nearly three months and eighty dollars is
+yours."
+
+"Eighty dollars! Whew! I mean, impossible. In the first place I
+haven't earned it; in the second, I couldn't take it from--from
+you--if I had. How could a man take money from one who had saved his
+life?"
+
+"Easily, I hope, if he has common sense. You exaggerate the service we
+were able to do you, which we would have rendered to anybody. Your
+earnings will start you straight again. Take them, and oblige me by
+making no further objections."
+
+Despite his protests, which were honest, Adrian could not but be
+delighted at the thought of possessing so goodly a sum. It was the
+first money he had ever earned, therefore better than any other ever
+could be, and as he put it, in his own thoughts: "it changed him from
+a beggar to a prince." Yet he made a final protest, asking:
+
+"Have I really, really, and justly earned all this? Do you surely mean
+it?"
+
+"I am not in the habit of saying anything I do not mean. It is getting
+late, and if you are to go to-night, it would be better to start
+soon," answered Mr. Dutton, with a frown.
+
+"Beg pardon. But I'm always saying what I should not, or putting the
+right things backward. There are some affairs 'not mentioned in the
+bond': my artist's outfit, these clothes, boots, and other matters. I
+want to pay the cost of them. Indeed, I must. You must allow me, as
+you would any other man."
+
+The woodlander hesitated a moment as if he were considering. He would
+have preferred no return for anything, but again that effort to be
+wholly just influenced him.
+
+"For the clothing, if you so desire, certainly. Here, in this account
+book, is a price list of all such articles as I buy. We will deduct
+that much. But I hope, in consideration of the pleasure that your
+talent has given me, that you will accept the painting stuff I so
+gladly provided. If you choose, also, you may leave a small gift for
+Angelique. Come. Pride is commendable, but not always."
+
+"Very well. Thank you, then, for your gift. Now, the price list."
+
+It had been a gratification to Mr. Dutton that Adrian had never worn
+the suits of clothing which he had laid out ready for use, on that
+morning after his arrival at the island. The lad had preferred the
+rougher costume suited to the woods and still wore it.
+
+In a few moments the small business transactions were settled, and
+Adrian rose.
+
+"I would like to bid Margot good-bye. But, I suppose, she has gone to
+bed."
+
+"Yes. I will give her your message. There is always a pain in parting
+and you two have been much together. I would spare her as much as I
+can. Angelique has packed a basket of food and Pierre is on the beach
+with his canoe. He may go as far with you as you desire, and you must
+pay him nothing for his service. He is already paid, though his greed
+might make him despoil you, if he could. Good-bye. I wish you well."
+
+Mr. Dutton had also risen, and as he moved forward into the lamplight
+Adrian noticed how much altered for the worse was his physical
+bearing. The man seemed to have aged by many years and his fine head
+was now snow-white. He half extended his hand, in response to the
+lad's proffered clasp, then dropped it to his side. He hoped that the
+departing guest had not observed this inhospitable movement--but he
+had. Possibly, it helped him over an awkward moment, by touching his
+pride afresh.
+
+"Good-bye, sir, and again--thank you. For the present, that is all I
+can do. Yet I have heard it was not so big a world, after all, and my
+chance may come. I'll get my traps from my room, if you please, and
+one or two little drawings as souvenirs. I'll not be long."
+
+Fifteen minutes later Pierre was paddling vigorously toward the
+further side of the lake and Adrian was straining his eyes for the
+last glimpse of the beautiful island which even now, in his banishment
+from it, seemed his real and beloved home. It became a vague and
+shadowy outline, as silent as the stars that brooded over it; and
+again he marveled what the mystery might be which enshrouded it, and
+why he should be connected with it.
+
+"Now that I am no longer its guest, there is no dishonor in my finding
+out; and find out--I will!"
+
+"Hey?" asked Pierre, so suddenly, that Adrian jumped and nearly upset
+the boat. "Oh! I thought you said somethin'. Say, ain't this a go?
+What you done that make the master shut the door on you? I never knew
+him do it before. Hey?"
+
+"Nothing. Keep quiet. I don't feel like talking."
+
+"Pr-r-r-rp! Look a here, young fello'. Me and you's alone on this dead
+water and I can swim--you can't. I've got all I expect to get out the
+trip and I've no notion o' makin' it. Not 'less things go to my
+thinkin'. Now, I'll rest a spell. You paddle!"
+
+With that, he began to rock the frail craft violently and Adrian's
+attention was recalled to the necessity of saving his own life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+A DISCLOSURE
+
+
+As the sun rose, Margot came out of her own room, fresh from her
+plunge that had washed all drowsiness away, as the good sleep had also
+banished all perplexities. Happy at all times, she was most so at
+morning, when, to her nature-loving eyes, the world seemed to have
+been made anew and doubly beautiful. The gay little melodies she had
+picked up from Pierre, or Angelique--who had been a sweet singer in
+her day--and now again from Adrian, were always on her lips at such an
+hour, and were dear beyond expression to her uncle's ears.
+
+But this morning she seemed to be singing them to the empty air. There
+was nobody in the living room, nor in the "study-library," as the
+housekeeper called the room of books, nor even in the kitchen. That
+was oddest of all! For there, at least, should Angelique have been,
+frying, or stewing, or broiling, as the case might be. Yet the coffee
+stood simmering, at one corner of the hearth and a bowl of eggs waited
+ready for the omelet which Angelique could make to perfection.
+
+"Why, how still it is! As if everybody had gone away and left the
+island alone."
+
+She ran to the door and called: "Adrian!"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Pierre! Angelique! Where is everybody?"
+
+Then she saw Angelique coming down the slope and ran to meet her. With
+one hand the woman carried a brimming pail of milk and with the other
+dragged by his collar the reluctant form of Reynard, who appeared as
+guilty and subdued as if he had been born a slave not free. To make
+matters more difficult, Meroude was surreptitiously helping herself to
+a breakfast from the pail and thereby ruining its contents for other
+uses.
+
+"Oh! the plague of a life with such beasts! And him the worst o' they
+all. The ver' next time my Pierre goes cross-lake, that fox goes or I
+do! There's no room on the island for the two of us. No. Indeed no.
+The harm comes of takin' in folks and beasties and friendin' them 'at
+don't deserve it. What now, think you?"
+
+Margot had run the faster, as soon as she descried poor Reynard's
+abject state, and had taken him under her own protection, which
+immediately restored him to his natural pride and noble bearing.
+
+"I think nothing evil of my pet, believe that! See the beauty now!
+That's the difference between harsh words and loving ones. If you'd
+only treat the 'beasties' as well as you do me, Angelique dear, you'd
+have less cause for scolding. What I think now is--speckled rooster.
+Right?"
+
+"Aye. Dead as dead; and the feathers still stickin' to the villain's
+jaws. What's the life of such brutes to that o' good fowls? Pst!
+Meroude! Scat! Well, if it's milk you will, milk you shall!" and,
+turning angrily about, Snowfoot's mistress dashed the entire contents
+of her pail over the annoying cat.
+
+Margot laughed till the tears came. "Why, Angelique! only the other
+day, in that quaint old 'Book of Beauty' uncle has, I read how a Queen
+of Naples, and some noted Parisian beauties, used baths of milk for
+their complexions; but poor Meroude's a hopeless case, I fear."
+
+Angelique's countenance took on a grim expression. "Mistress Meroude's
+got a day's job to clean herself, the greedy. It's not her nose'll go
+in the pail another mornin'. No. No, indeed."
+
+"And it was so full. Yet that's the same Snowfoot who was to give us
+no more, because of the broken glass. Angelique, where's uncle?"
+
+"How should I tell? Am I set to spy the master's ins and outs?"
+
+"Funny Angelique! You're not set to do it, but you can usually tell
+them. And where's Adrian? I've called and called, but nobody answers.
+I can't guess where they all are. Even Pierre is out of sight, and
+he's mostly to be found at the kitchen door when meal time comes."
+
+"There, there, child. You can ask more questions than old Angelique
+can answer. But the breakfast. That's a good thought. So be. Whisk in
+and mix the batter cakes for the master's eatin'. 'Tis he, foolish
+man, finds they have better savor from Margot's fingers than mine.
+Simple one, with all his wisdom."
+
+"It's love gives them savor, sweet Angelique! and the desire to see me
+a proper housewife. I wonder why he cares about that, since you are
+here to do such things."
+
+"Ah! The 'I wonders!' and the 'Is its?' of a maid! They set the head
+awhirl. The batter cakes, my child. I see the master comin' down the
+hill this minute."
+
+Margot paused long enough to caress Tom, the eagle, who met her on the
+path, then sped indoors, leaving Reynard to his own devices and
+Angelique's not too tender mercies. But she put all her energy into
+the task assigned her and proudly placed a plate of her uncle's
+favorite dainty before him when he took his seat at table. Till then
+she had not noticed its altered arrangement, and even her guardian's
+coveted: "Well done, little housekeeper!" could not banish the sudden
+fear that assailed her.
+
+"Why, what does it mean? Where is Adrian? Where Pierre? Why are only
+dishes for three?"
+
+"Pst! my child! Hast been askin' questions in the sleep? Sure, you
+have ever since your eyes flew open. Say your grace and eat your meat,
+and let the master rest."
+
+"Yes, darling. Angelique is wise. Eat your breakfast as usual, and
+afterward I will tell you all--that you should know."
+
+"But, I cannot eat. It chokes me. It seems so awfully still and
+strange and empty. As I should think it might be, were somebody dead."
+
+Angelique's scant patience was exhausted. Not only was her loyal heart
+tried by her master's troubles, but she had had added labor to
+accomplish. During all that summer two strong and, at least one,
+willing lads had been at hand to do the various chores pertaining to
+all country homes, however isolated. That morning she had brought in
+her own supply of fire-wood, filled her buckets from the spring,
+attended the poultry, fed the oxen, milked Snowfoot, wrestled over the
+iniquity of Reynard and grieved at the untimely death of the speckled
+rooster: "When he would have made such a lovely fricasee, yes. Indeed,
+'twas a sinful waste!"
+
+Though none of these tasks were new or arduous to her, she had not
+performed them during the past weeks, save and except the care of her
+cow. That she had never entrusted to anybody, not even the master; and
+it was to spare him that she had done some of the things he meant to
+attend to later. Now she had reached her limit.
+
+"Angelique wants her breakfast, child. She has been long astir. After
+that the deluge!" quoted Mr. Dutton, with an attempt at lightness
+which did not agree with his real depression.
+
+Margot made heroic efforts to act as usual but they ended in failure,
+and as soon as might be her guardian pushed back his chair and she
+promptly did the same.
+
+"Now I can ask as many questions as I please, can't I? First, where
+are they?"
+
+"They have gone across the lake, southward, I suppose. Toward whatever
+place or town Adrian selects. He will not come back but Pierre will do
+so, after he has guided the other to some safe point beyond the woods.
+How soon I do not know, of course."
+
+"Gone! Without bidding me good-bye? Gone to stay? Oh! uncle, how could
+he? I know you didn't like him but I did. He was----"
+
+Margot dropped her face in her hands and sobbed bitterly. Then ashamed
+of her unaccustomed tears she ran out of the house and as far from it
+as she could. But even the blue herons could give her no amusement,
+though they stalked gravely up the river bank and posed beside her,
+where she lay prone and disconsolate in Harmony Hollow. Her squirrels
+saw and wondered, for she had no returning chatter for them, even when
+they chased one another over her prostrate person and playfully pulled
+at her long hair.
+
+"He was the only friend I ever had that was not old and wise in
+sorrow. It was true he seemed to bring a shadow with him and while he
+was here I sometimes wished he would go, or had never come; yet now
+that he has--oh! it's so awfully, awfully lonesome. Nobody to talk
+with about my dreams and fancies, nobody to talk nonsense, nobody to
+teach me any more songs--nobody but just old folks and animals! And he
+went, he went without a word or a single good-bye!"
+
+It was, indeed, Margot's first grief; and the fact that her late
+comrade could leave her so coolly, without even mentioning his plan,
+hurt her very deeply. But, after awhile, resentment at Adrian's
+seeming neglect almost banished her loneliness; and, sitting up, she
+stared at Xanthippé, poised on one leg before her, apparently asleep
+but really waiting for anything which might turn up in the shape of
+dainties.
+
+"Oh! you sweet vixen! but you needn't pose. There's no artist here now
+to sketch you, and I don't care, not very much, if there isn't. After
+all my trying to do him good, praising and blaming and petting, if he
+was impolite enough to go as he did---- Well, no matter!"
+
+While this indignation lasted she felt better, but as soon as she came
+once more in sight of the clearing and of her uncle finishing one of
+Adrian's uncompleted tasks, her loneliness returned with double force.
+It had almost the effect of bodily illness and she had no experience
+to guide her. With a fresh burst of tears she caught her guardian's
+hand and hid her face on his shoulder.
+
+"Oh! it's so desolate. So empty. Everything's so changed. Even the
+Hollow is different and the squirrels seem like strangers. If he had
+to go, why did he ever, ever come!"
+
+"Why, indeed!"
+
+Mr. Dutton was surprised and frightened by the intensity of her grief.
+If she could sorrow in this way for a brief friendship, what untold
+misery might not life have in store for her? There must have been some
+serious blunder in his training if she were no better fitted than this
+to face trouble; and for the first time it occurred to him that he
+should not have kept her from all companions of her own age.
+
+"Margot!"
+
+The sternness of his tone made her look up and calm herself.
+
+"Y-es, uncle."
+
+"This must stop. Adrian went by my invitation. Because I could no
+longer permit your association. Between his household and ours is a
+wrong beyond repair. He cannot help that he is his father's son, but
+being such he is an impossible friend for your father's daughter. I
+should have sent him away, at my very first suspicion of his identity,
+but--I want to be just. It has been the effort of my life to learn
+forgiveness. Until the last I would not allow myself even to believe
+who he was, but gave him the benefit of the chance that his name might
+be of another family. When I did know--there was no choice. He had to
+go."
+
+Margot watched his face, as he spoke, with a curious feeling that this
+was not the loved and loving uncle she had always known but a
+stranger. There were wrinkles and scars she had never noticed, a
+bitterness that made the voice an unfamiliar one, and a weariness in
+the droop of the figure leaning upon the hoe which suggested an aged
+and heart-broken man.
+
+Why, only yesterday, it seemed, Hugh Dutton was the very type of a
+stalwart woodlander, with the grace of a finished and untiring
+scholar, making the man unique. Now---- If Adrian had done this thing,
+if his mere presence had so altered her beloved guardian, then let
+Adrian go! Her arms went around the man's neck and her kisses showered
+upon his cheeks, his hands, even his bent white head.
+
+"Uncle, uncle! Don't look like that! Don't. He's gone and shall never
+come back. Everything's gone, hasn't it? Even that irreparable past,
+of which I'd never heard. Why, if I'd dreamed, do you suppose I'd even
+ever have spoken to him? No, indeed. Why you, the tip of your smallest
+finger, the smallest lock of your hair, is worth more than a thousand
+Adrians! I was sorry he'd treated me so rudely. But now I'm glad,
+glad, glad. I wouldn't listen to him now, not if he said good-bye
+forever and ever. I love you, uncle, best of all the world, and you
+love me. Let's be just as we were before any strangers came. Come,
+let's go out on the lake."
+
+He smiled at her extravagance and abruptness. The times when they had
+gone canoeing together had been their merriest, happiest times. It
+seemed to her that it needed only some such outing to restore the
+former conditions of their life.
+
+"Not to-day, dearest."
+
+"Why not? The potatoes won't hurt and it's so lovely."
+
+"There are other matters, more important than potatoes. I have put
+them off too long. Now--Margot, do you love me?"
+
+"Why--uncle!"
+
+"Because there is somebody whom you must love even more dearly. Your
+father."
+
+"My--father! My father? Of course; though he is dead."
+
+"No, Margot. He is still alive."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+CARRYING
+
+
+Pierre's ill-temper was short-lived, but his curiosity remained.
+However, when Adrian steadily refused to gratify it his interest
+returned to himself.
+
+"Say, I've a mind to go the whole way."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Wherever you're going. Nothin' to call me back."
+
+"Madoc?"
+
+"We might take him along."
+
+"Not if he's sick. That would be as cruel to him as troublesome to us.
+Besides, you need go no further than yonder shore."
+
+"Them's the woods you got lost in."
+
+"I know them better now."
+
+"Couldn't find your road to save your life."
+
+"I think I could. Besides, you will be wanted at the island. I don't
+think Mr. Dutton is a well man. With nobody but an old woman and a
+young girl he'll need somebody. You're not much good, still----"
+
+Pierre laughed. They had about reached the forest and he rested his
+paddle.
+
+"You hear me. I'm going to where you go. That was the master's word. I
+wouldn't dare not do it. If I did, my mother'd make me sorry. So
+that's settled."
+
+Adrian had doubts as to the truth of this statement of the islander's
+commands. He recalled the words: "as far as you desire." After all,
+this was not setting a time limit, and it was perfectly natural that
+anybody should like company through the wilderness. Why, it would be a
+wild, adventurous journey! the very sort of which he had dreamed
+before he had tasted the prosaic routine of the lumber-camp. He had
+his colors and brushes, the birch-bark which served so many forest
+purposes should be his canvas, they had food, and Pierre, at least,
+his gun and ammunition--no lad could have protested further.
+
+"All right. It will be a lark after my own heart. We can quit as soon
+as we're tired of it; and--look here. Mr. Dutton said you were paid to
+take me to the nearest town. How far is that? How long to get there?"
+
+"Oh! I don't know. Donovan's nighest. Might go in four days--might a
+week. Canada's closer, but you don't want to go north. South, he
+said."
+
+"Ye-es. I suppose so. Fact is, I don't care where I go nor when. I'm
+in no hurry. As long as the money and food hold out, I'm satisfied."
+
+"Speakin' of money. I couldn't afford to waste my time."
+
+Adrian laughed at this sudden change of front. It was Pierre who had
+proposed the long road, but at the mention of money had remembered
+prudence.
+
+"That's all right, too. It was of that I was thinking, you greedy
+fellow. What do guides get, here in the woods?"
+
+Pierre stepped ashore, carefully beached his canoe, and as carefully
+considered his reply before he made it. How much did this city lad
+know? Either at camp or on the island had he heard the just rates of
+such service?
+
+"Well--how much you got?"
+
+"I'm asking a question, not you."
+
+"About four dollars, likely."
+
+"Whew! not much. You can get the best of them for two. I'll give you a
+dollar a day when we're resting and one-fifty when we're traveling."
+
+Adrian was smiling in the darkness at his own sudden thrift. He had
+taken a leaf out of his comrade's own book, and beyond that, he almost
+loved his precious earnings, so soon as the thought came of parting
+with them. He instantly resolved to put aside a ten dollar piece to
+take the "mater," whenever he should see her. The rest he would use,
+of course, but not waste. He would paint such pictures up here as
+would make his old artist friends and the critics open their eyes. The
+very novelty of the material which should embody them would "take."
+Already, in imagination, he saw dozens of fascinating "bits" hung on
+the line at the old Academy, and felt the marvelous sums they brought
+swelling his pockets to bursting. He'd be the rage, the hit of the
+next season; and what pride he'd have in sending newspaper notices of
+himself to Peace Island! How Margot would open her blue eyes, and
+Angelique toss her hands, and the master slowly admit that there was
+genius where he had estimated only talent.
+
+"There's such a wide, wide difference in the two!" cried Adrian,
+aloud.
+
+"Hey? What?"
+
+The dreamer came back to reality, and to Pierre, demanding,
+
+"Make it one-seventy-five, and I'll do it."
+
+"Well. I will. Now, for to-night. Shall we camp right here or go
+further into the forest? In the woods I'm always ready for bed, and
+its later than usual now."
+
+"Here. I know the very rocks you got under in that storm. They'll do
+as good as a tent, and easier."
+
+Adrian, also, knew that spot and in a few moments both lads were
+asleep. They had not stopped even to build the fire that was customary
+in such quarters.
+
+Pierre was awake first, on the next morning, and Adrian slowly rose,
+stretching his cramped limbs and yawning widely.
+
+"Well, I must say that Angelique's good mattress beats rocks. You
+don't catch me doing that again. I guess I'll walk down to the water
+and have a last look at the island."
+
+"I guess you won't. You'll eat your breakfast right now. Then you'll
+fix that birch for the carry. If I do the heavy work you've got to do
+the light."
+
+"Sounds fair enough, but you're paid and I'm not."
+
+"It is fair."
+
+Adrian did not contest the point; the less readily because he saw that
+the fried chicken Angelique had given them was rapidly diminishing in
+quantity.
+
+"Think I'll fall to, myself. My, but I'm hungry! Wish I had a cup of
+coffee."
+
+"Can't waste time now. We'll have some to-night."
+
+"Did they give us some?"
+
+"Look in the pack."
+
+"After breakfast, I'll oblige you."
+
+Pierre grinned and helped himself to a wing.
+
+Adrian seized the tin basin which held the fowl and placed it behind
+himself. "Enough's as good as a feast. We shall be hungry again. See
+here. What kind of a bird was this? or birds? all legs and arms, no
+bodies. Freaks of nature. Eh? How many breast portions have you
+devoured?"
+
+"Three."
+
+"Oh! Then, travel or no travel, you get no wage this day. Understand.
+I'm commander of this expedition. I see to the commissariat. I'll
+overhaul the pack, and take account of stock."
+
+Pierre assisted at the task. Though he had been impatient to get away
+from that locality, still too dangerously near his mother's rule, he
+intended to keep an eye on everything. Paid or not paid, as Adrian
+fared so would he--only rather better.
+
+"Why, they must have thought we would be in the woods a long time.
+They were certainly generous."
+
+They had been, but Pierre considered that they might have been more
+so.
+
+"This was for both trips. Half is mine."
+
+"Nonsense. But--there. We're not going to squabble all the time, like
+children. And we both know exactly what we have to depend on. We must
+fish and shoot----"
+
+"How'll you do that? The only gun is mine."
+
+"It's part of the outfit. Let's see. A little good tent cloth--not big
+enough to cover any but good-natured folks--salt pork, beans, sugar,
+coffee, tea, flour, meal, dishes---- Hello! We're kings, Ricord!
+Monarchs of Maine."
+
+"Cut the splints."
+
+After all, it seemed to be Pierre who did the ordering, but Adrian had
+sense to see that he was the wiser of the two in woodcraft; even
+though he himself had made it a study during the last weeks. He seized
+the axe and attacked a cedar-tree, from which he had soon cut the
+binding strips he wanted. Then he laid the paddles in the boat,
+fastening them with rootlets to the three thwarts. He also fastened
+two broad bands of the pliable splints in such a way that when it was
+inverted, the weight of the canoe could be borne in part by the
+forehead and shoulders. He was ready almost as soon as Pierre had
+retied the pack, which was to be Adrian's burden.
+
+"All right! I'll swing her up. This 'carry' isn't a long one and the
+first thoroughfare is ten miles before we come to dead water. But
+it's up-stream that far and we'll have to warp up some. Part is fair,
+but more is rips."
+
+If Pierre thought to confound his mate by his woodland slang he was
+disappointed. Margot had been a good teacher and Adrian had been eager
+to learn what he had not already done from the loggers. Pierre had
+been puzzled by "commissariat" and "expedition" and felt that he had
+evened matters nicely.
+
+"Oh! I know. A thoroughfare is a river, and a dead water is a lake.
+And a carrier is--yourself!"
+
+To show his new skill he caught up the canoe and inverted it over his
+own head. He, also, had been calculating a bit, and realized that the
+birch was really the lighter burden. So he generously left the pack to
+his neighbor and started forward bravely.
+
+"All right, like you say. One little bit, then you change. Then, too,
+maybe I'm not ready."
+
+With a whistle and spring Pierre hoisted the pack to his shoulders,
+wound its straps around his body and started off through the forest at
+a sort of dog-trot pace, pausing neither for swamp nor fallen tree;
+and Adrian realized that if he were to keep his companion in sight he
+must travel equally fast.
+
+Alas! this was impossible. The birch which had seemed so light and
+romantic a "carry" became suddenly the heaviest and most difficult. He
+caught its ends on tree trunks and righting these blunders he stumbled
+over the rough way. The thongs that had seemed so smooth cut his
+forehead and burned into his chest, and putting pride in his pocket,
+he shouted:
+
+"Pierre! Pierre Ricord! Come back or you'll get no money!"
+
+It would have been a convincing argument had it been heard, but it
+was not. Pierre had already gone too far in advance. Yet at that
+moment a sound was borne on the breeze toward Adrian which effectually
+banished all thought of fatigue or of ill-treatment. A long-drawn,
+unmistakable cry that once heard no man with the hunter instinct ever
+forgets.
+
+"A moose! And Pierre has the gun!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+A DEAD WATER TRAGEDY
+
+
+But Pierre, also, had heard that distant "Ugh-u-u-ugh!" and instantly
+paused. His own anxiety was lest Adrian should not hear and be still.
+Fortunately, the wind was in their favor and the sensitive nostrils of
+the moose less apt to scent them. Having listened a moment, he dropped
+his pack so softly that, heavy as it was, it scarcely made the
+undergrowth crack. His gun was always loaded and now making it ready
+for prompt use, he started back toward his companion. The Indian in
+his nature came to the fore. His step was alert, precise, and light as
+that of any four-footed forester. When within sight of the other lad,
+listening and motionless, his eye brightened.
+
+"If he keeps that way, maybe---- Ah!"
+
+The moose called again, but further off. This was a disappointment,
+but they were on good ground for hunting and another chance would
+come. Meanwhile they would better make all haste to the thoroughfare.
+There would be the better place, and out in the canoe they'd have a
+wider range.
+
+"Here, you. Give me the boat. Did you hear it?"
+
+"Did I not? But you had the gun!"
+
+"Wouldn't have made any difference if you'd had it. Too far off. Let's
+get on."
+
+Adrian lifted the pack and dropped it in disgust. "I can't carry that
+load!"
+
+Pierre was also disgusted--by the other's ignorance and lack of
+endurance.
+
+"What you don't know about the woods beats all. Haven't you seen
+anybody pack things before? I'll show you. When there's big game handy
+is no time to quarrel. If a pack's too heavy, halve it. Watch and
+learn something."
+
+Pierre could be both swift and dexterous if he chose, and he rapidly
+unrolled and divided the contents of the cotton tent. Putting part
+into the blanket he retied the rest in the sheeting, and now neither
+bundle was a very severe tax.
+
+"Whew! What's the sense of that? It's the same weight. How does
+halving it help?"
+
+Pierre swung the canoe upon his head and directed:
+
+"Catch hold them straps. Carry one a few rods. Drop it. Come back
+after the other. Carry that a ways beyond the first. Drop it. Get
+number one. All time lap over, beyond, over, beyond. So."
+
+With a stick he illustrated on the ground, and wasting no further time
+nor speech, clasped his gun the tighter under his arm and trotted
+forward again.
+
+Adrian obeyed instructions, and though it seemed, at first, a waste to
+go back and forth along the carry as he had been directed, found that,
+in the end, he had accomplished his task with small fatigue or delay.
+
+"Another bit of woodcraft for my knowledge box. Useful elsewhere, too.
+Wish I could get through this country as fast as Pierre does. But
+he'll have to wait for me, anyway."
+
+For a time Adrian could easily trace the route of his guide by the
+bruises the canoe had given the leaves and undergrowth but after
+awhile the forest grew more open and this trail was lost. Then he
+stopped to consider. He had no intention of losing himself again.
+
+"We are aiming for the south. Good. All the big branches of these
+hemlocks point that way--so yonder's my road. Queer, too, how mossy
+the tree trunks are on the north sides. I've heard that you could drop
+an Indian anywhere in any forest and he'd travel to either point of
+the compass he desired with nothing to guide him but his instinct.
+Wish I were an Indian! Wish, rather, I had my own compass and good
+outfit that went over in my canoe. Hurrah! There's a glimmer of
+water. That's the thoroughfare. Now a dash for it!"
+
+Adrian was proud of his new skill in finding his own way through a
+trackless forest, but though he duly reached the stream he could not
+for a time see anything of Pierre. He did not wish to shout, lest the
+moose might be near and take fright, but at last he did give a faint
+halloo and an answer came at once. Then the boat shot out from behind
+a clump of alders and made down the river toward him.
+
+The current was swift and strong and there was considerable poling
+to be done before it touched the shore and Pierre stepped out.
+
+"I've been looking round. This is as good a place to camp to-night as
+we'll find. Leave the things here, and might as well get ready now.
+Then we can stay out all day and come back when we like."
+
+"But I thought we were to go on up the thoroughfare. Why stop here at
+all? Other camping places are easy to find."
+
+"Are they? My, you can ask questions. Good many things go to making
+right sort of camp. Dry ground, good water to drink, fire-wood,
+poles---- Oh! shucks! If you don't know, keep still and learn."
+
+This was excellent advice and Adrian was tired. He decided to trust
+to the other lad's common sense and larger experience, and having
+so decided, calmly stretched himself out upon the level bank of the
+stream and went to sleep.
+
+Pierre's temper rose still higher and after he had endured the sight
+of Adrian's indolence as long as possible he stepped to the river and
+dipped a bucket of water. Then he returned and quietly dashed it over
+the drowsy lad. The effect was all that Pierre desired.
+
+"What did you do that for?"
+
+"Take this axe and get to work. I've chopped long enough. It's my turn
+to rest. Or would be, only I'm after moose."
+
+Adrian realized that he had given cause for offense and laughed
+good-naturedly. His nap had rested him much more than his broken sleep
+of the night under the rocks, and the word "moose" had an inspiration
+all its own.
+
+"I've cut the fire-wood. You get poles for the tent. I'll get things
+ready for supper."
+
+Adrian laid his hand dramatically upon his stomach. "I've an inner
+conviction already that dinner precedes supper."
+
+"Cut, can't you?"
+
+"Cut, it is."
+
+In a few moments he had chopped down a few slender poles, and
+selecting two with forked branches he planted these upright on a
+little rise of the driest ground. Across the notches he laid a third
+pole, and over this he stretched their strip of sheeting. When this
+was pegged down at a convenient angle at the back and also secured at
+the ends, they had a very comfortable shelter from the dew and
+possible rain. The affair was open on one side and before this Pierre
+had heaped the wood for the fire when they should return after the
+day's hunt. Together they cut and spread the spruce and hemlock boughs
+for their bed, arranging them in overlapping rows, with an added
+quantity for pillows. Wrapped in their blankets, for even at midsummer
+these were not amiss, they hoped to sleep luxuriously.
+
+They stored their food in as safe a spot as possible, though Pierre
+said that nothing would molest it, unless it might be a hungry
+hedgehog, but Adrian preferred to take no risks. Then with knives
+freshly sharpened on the rocks, and the gun in hand, they cautiously
+stepped into the canoe and pushed off.
+
+"One should not jump into a birch. Easiest thing in the world to split
+the bottom," its owner had explained.
+
+Adrian had no desire to do anything that would hinder their success,
+therefore submitted to his guide's dictation with a meekness that
+would have amused Margot.
+
+She would not have been amused by their undertaking nor its but
+half-anticipated results. After a long and difficult warping-up the
+rapids, in which Adrian's skill at using the sharp-pointed pole that
+helped to keep the canoe off the rocks surprised Ricord, they reached
+a dead water, with low, rush-dotted banks.
+
+"Get her into that cove yonder, and keep still. I've brought some bark
+and'll make a horn."
+
+There, while they rested and listened, Pierre deftly rolled his strip
+of birch-bark into a horn of two feet in length, small at the mouth
+end but several inches wide at the other. He tied it with cedar thongs
+and putting it to his lips, uttered a call so like a cow-moose that
+Adrian wondered more and more.
+
+"Hmm. I thought I was pretty smart, myself; but I'll step down when
+you take the stand."
+
+"'Sh-h-h! Don't move. Don't speak. Don't breathe, if you can help it."
+
+Adrian became rigid, all his faculties merged in that one desire to
+lose no sound.
+
+Again Pierre gave the moose-call, and--hark! what was that? An
+answering cry, a far-away crashing of boughs, the onrush of some big
+creature, hastening to its mate.
+
+Noiselessly Pierre brought his gun into position, sighting one distant
+point from which he thought his prey would come. Adrian's body dripped
+with a cold sweat, his hands trembled, specks floated before his
+staring eyes, every nerve was tense, and, as Margot would have said,
+he was a-thrill "with murder," from head to foot! Oh! if the gun were
+his, and the shot!
+
+Another call, another cry, and a magnificent head came into view. With
+horns erect and quivering nostrils the monarch of that wilderness
+came, seeking love, and faced his enemies.
+
+"He's within range--shoot!" whispered Adrian.
+
+"Only anger him that way. 'Sh! When he turns----"
+
+"Bang! bang--bang!" in swift succession.
+
+The great horns tossed, the noble head came round again, then bent,
+wavered and disappeared. The tragedy was over.
+
+"I got him! I got him that time! Always shoot that way, never----"
+
+Pierre picked up his paddle and sent the canoe forward at a leap. When
+there came no responding movement from his companion he looked back
+over his shoulder. Adrian's face had gone white and the eagerness of
+his eyes had given place to unspeakable regret.
+
+"What's the matter? Sick?"
+
+"Yes. Why, it was murder! Margot was right."
+
+"Oh! shucks!"
+
+Whereupon Pierre pulled the faster toward the body of his victim.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+SHOOTING THE RAPIDS
+
+
+Three months earlier, if anybody had told Adrian he would ever be
+guilty of such "squeamishness" he would have laughed in derision. Now,
+all unconsciously to himself, the influence of his summer at Peace
+Island was upon him and it came to him with the force of a revelation
+that God had created the wild creatures of His forests for something
+nobler than to become the prey of man.
+
+"Oh! that grand fellow! his splendidly defiant, yet hopeless, facing
+of death! I wish we'd never met him!"
+
+"Well, of all foolishness! I thought you wanted nothing but the chance
+at him yourself."
+
+"So I did. Before I saw him. What if it had been Madoc?"
+
+"That's different."
+
+"The same. Might have been twin brothers. Maybe they were."
+
+"Couldn't have been. Paddle, won't you?"
+
+Adrian did so, but with a poor grace. He would now far rather have
+turned the canoe about toward camp, yet railed at himself for his
+sudden cowardice. He shrank from looking on the dead moose as only an
+hour before he had longed to do so.
+
+They were soon at the spot where the animal had disappeared and
+pushing the boat upon the reedy shore, Pierre plunged forward through
+the marsh. Adrian did not follow, till a triumphant shout reached him.
+Then he felt in his pocket and, finding a pencil with a bit of paper,
+made his own way more slowly to the side of his comrade, who, wildly
+excited, was examining and measuring his quarry. On a broad leaved
+rush he had marked off a hand's width and from this unit calculated
+that:
+
+"He's eight feet four from hoof to shoulder, and that betters the
+King by six inches. See. His horns spread nigh six feet. If he stood
+straight and held them up he'd be fifteen feet or nothing! They spread
+more'n six feet, and I tell you, he's a beauty!"
+
+"Yes. He's all of that. But of what use is his beauty now?"
+
+"Humph! Didn't know you was a girl!"
+
+Adrian did not answer. He was rapidly and skilfully sketching the
+prostrate animal, and studying it minutely. From his memory of it
+alive and the drawing he hoped to paint a tolerably lifelike portrait
+of the animal; and a fresh inspiration came to him. To those projected
+woodland pictures he would add glimpses of its wild denizens, and in
+such a way that the hearts of the beholders should be moved to pity,
+not to slaughter.
+
+But, already that sharpened knife of Pierre's was at work, defacing,
+mutilating.
+
+"Why do that, man?"
+
+"Why not? What ails you? What'd we hunt for?"
+
+"We don't need him for food. You cannot possibly carry those horns any
+distance on our trip, and you're not apt to come back just this same
+way. Let him lie. You've done him all the harm you should. Come on. Is
+this like him?" And Adrian showed his drawing.
+
+"Oh! it's like enough. If you don't relish my job--clear out. I can
+skin him alone."
+
+Adrian waited no second bidding, but strolled away to a distance and
+tried to think of other things than the butchering in progress. But at
+last Pierre whistled and he had to go back or else be left in the
+wilderness to fare alone as best he might. It was a ghastly sight. The
+great skin, splashed and wet with its owner's blood, the dismembered
+antlers, the slashed off nose--which such as Pierre considered a
+precious tid-bit, the naked carcass and the butcher's own uninviting
+state.
+
+"I declare, I can never get into the same boat with you and all that
+horror. Do leave it here. Do wash yourself--there's plenty of water,
+and let's be gone."
+
+Pierre did not notice the appeal. Though the lust of killing had died
+out of his eyes the lust of greed remained. Already he was estimating
+the value of the hide, cured or uncured, and the price those antlers
+would bring could he once get them to the proper market.
+
+"Why, I've heard that in some of the towns folks buy 'em to hang their
+hats on. Odd! Lend a hand."
+
+Reluctantly, Adrian did lift his portion of the heavy horns and helped
+carry them to the birch. He realized that the pluckiest way of putting
+this disagreeable spot behind him was by doing as he was asked. He was
+hopeless of influencing the other by any change in his own feelings
+and wisely kept silence.
+
+But they hunted no more that day, nor did they make any further
+progress on their journey. Pierre busied himself in erecting a rude
+frame upon which he stretched the moose skin to dry. He also prepared
+the antlers and built a sort of hut, of saplings and bark, where he
+could store his trophies till his return trip.
+
+"For I shall surely come back this same way. It's good hunting ground
+and moose feed in herds. Small herds, course, but two, three make a
+fellow rich. Eh?"
+
+Adrian said nothing. He occupied himself in what Pierre considered a
+silly fashion, sketching, studying "effects," and carefully cutting
+big pieces of the birch-bark that he meant to use for "canvas." To
+keep this flat during his travels was a rather difficult problem, but
+finally solved by cutting two slabs of cedar wood and placing the
+sheets of bark between these.
+
+Whereupon, Pierre laughed and assured the weary chopper that he had
+had his trouble for his pains.
+
+"What for you want to carry big lumber that way? Roll your bark.
+That's all right. When you want to use it put it in water. Easy.
+Queer how little you know about things."
+
+"All right. I was silly, sure enough. But thanks for your teaching.
+Maybe, if you were in my city I might show you a thing or two."
+
+Both lads were glad, however, when night came, and having cooked
+themselves a good supper and replenished their fire, they slept as
+only such healthy lads can sleep; to wake at sunrise, ready for fresh
+adventures, and with the tragedy of the previous day partly forgotten
+even by Adrian. Then, after a hearty breakfast, they resumed their
+trip.
+
+Nothing eventful occurred for some time after. No more moose appeared,
+and beyond winging a duck or two and fishing now and then, Pierre kept
+his hunting instincts down. In fact, he was just then too lazy to
+exert himself. He felt that he had labored beyond all reason during
+the past summer and needed a rest. Besides, were not his wages
+steadily going on? If Adrian was silly enough to paint and paint and
+paint--all day, this old tree and that mossy stump, he was not
+responsible for another man's stupidity. Not he. The food was still
+holding out, so let things take their course.
+
+Suddenly, however, Adrian realized that they were wasting time. He
+had made sketches on everything and anything he could find and had
+accumulated enough birch-bark to swamp the canoe, should they strike
+rough water; and far more than was comfortable for him to carry over
+any portage. So one morning he announced his intention of leaving the
+wilderness and getting back to civilization.
+
+"All right. I go with you. Show me the town, then I'll come back."
+
+"Well. As you please. Only I don't propose to pay you any longer than
+will take us, now by the shortest road, to Donovan's."
+
+"Time enough to borrow that trouble when you see it."
+
+But Pierre suggested that, as Adrian wished to learn everything
+possible about the woods, he should now take the guidance of affairs,
+and that whenever things went wrong he, Pierre, could point the way.
+He did this because, of late, he fancied that his young employer
+had taken a "too top-lofty" tone in addressing him; and, in truth,
+Adrian's day-dreams of coming fame and his own genius were making him
+feel vastly superior to the rough woodsman.
+
+They had paddled over dead water to a point where two streams touched
+it, and the question rose--which way?
+
+"That!" said Adrian, with decision, pointing to the broader and more
+southern of the two.
+
+"Good enough."
+
+For a moment the leader fancied there was a gleam of malice in
+his hireling's eye, but he considered it beneath his notice and
+calmly turned the canoe into the thoroughfare he had chosen. It was
+wonderfully smooth and delightful paddling. In all their trip they had
+not found so level a stream, and it was nothing but enjoyment of the
+scenery that Adrian felt, until it seemed to him that they had been
+moving a long time without arriving anywhere. "Haven't we?" he asked.
+
+"Oh! we'll get there soon, now."
+
+Presently things began to look familiar. There was one curiously
+shaped, lightning-riven pine, standing high above its fellows, that
+appeared like an old friend.
+
+"Why, what's this? Can there be two trees, exactly alike, within a
+half-day's rowing? I've certainly sketched that old landmark from
+every side, and---- Hello! yonder's my group of white-birches or I'm
+blind. How queer!"
+
+A few more sweeps and the remains of the camp they had that morning
+left were before them, and Pierre could no longer repress his glee.
+
+"Good guide, you! Trust a know-it-all for making mistakes."
+
+"What does it mean?" demanded Adrian, angrily.
+
+"Nothing. Only you picked out a run-about, a little branch of river,
+that wanders out of course and then comes home again. Begins and ends
+the same. Oh! you're wise, you are."
+
+"Would the other lead us right?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But it turns north. We're bound south."
+
+"That's no matter. Can't a river turn, same as runabouts?"
+
+"I give up. You guide. I'll stick to my brush."
+
+This restored affairs to the ground which Pierre considered proper;
+and having paused long enough to eat a lunch, they set out afresh. The
+new track they followed ascended steadily, and it proved a difficult
+stream to get up; but the ascent was accomplished without accident and
+then the surface of the land altered. Again they reached a point where
+two branches met and Pierre explained that the waters of one ran due
+north, but the other bent gradually toward the south and in a little
+while descended through one of the most dangerous "rips" he had ever
+seen.
+
+"Only saw them once, too. When I went as far as Donovan's with the
+master, year before last."
+
+"Didn't know he ever came so far from the island."
+
+"Why, he goes once every summer, or fall, as far as that New York of
+yours. Likely he'll be going soon again."
+
+"He does? Queer he never mentioned it."
+
+"Maybe. I've a notion, though, that the things he don't say are more
+important than what he does. Ever shoot a rip?"
+
+"No. I've tried and failed. That's how I happened to get lost and
+wandered to Dutton's."
+
+"He's the boss hand at it. Seems as if the danger fired him up. Makes
+him feel as I do when I hunt big game. He didn't need my help, only
+fetched me along to take back some truck. That's how he picked me out
+to show you. He knew I knew----"
+
+"And I wish I knew--lots of things!"
+
+"One of 'em might be that round that next turn comes the first dip.
+Then, look out."
+
+The stream was descending very perceptibly; and they needed no
+paddling to keep them moving. But they did require to be incessantly
+on the watch to guard against the rocks which obstructed the current
+and which threatened the safety of their frail craft.
+
+"You keep an eye on me and one on the channel. It'll take a clear head
+to carry us through, and no fooling."
+
+Adrian did not answer. He had no thought for anything just then but
+the menace of those jagged points which seemed to reach toward them as
+if to destroy.
+
+Nor did Pierre speak again. Far better even than his silent companion
+could he estimate the perils which beset them. Life itself was the
+price which they would pay for a moment's carelessness; but a cool
+head, a clear eye, and a steady wrist--these meant safety and the
+proud record of a dangerous passage wisely made. A man who could shoot
+those rapids was a guide who might, indeed, some time demand the high
+wages at which Adrian had jeered.
+
+Suddenly, the channel seemed barred by two opposing bowlders, whose
+points lapped each other. In reality, there was a way between them, by
+the shortest of curves and of but little more than the canoe's width.
+Pierre saw and measured the distance skilfully, but he had not counted
+upon the opposing force of the water that rushed against them.
+
+"Look--out! take----"
+
+Behind the right-hand rock seethed a mighty whirlpool where the river
+speeding downward was caught and tossed back upon itself, around and
+around, mad to escape yet bound by its own power.
+
+Into this vortex the canoe was hurled; to be instantly overturned and
+dashed to pieces on the rock.
+
+On its first circuit of the pool Adrian leaped and landed upon the
+slippery bowlder--breathless, but alive! His hand still clasped the
+pole he had been using to steer with, and Pierre----? He had almost
+disappeared within the whirling water, that tossed him like a feather.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+SCIENCE AND SUPERSTITION
+
+
+For an instant Adrian closed his eyes that he might not see the
+inevitable end. But--was it inevitable? At the logging camp he had
+heard of just such accidents as this and not all of them were fatal.
+The water in its whirling sometimes tossed that which it had caught
+outward to safety.
+
+He flung himself prone and extended the pole. Pierre's body was making
+another circuit of that horrible pit and when--if--should it---- The
+drowning boy's head was under the current, but his legs swung round
+upon its surface, faster and faster, as they drew nearer the centre.
+
+Then--a marvel! The long pole was thrust under the invisible arms,
+which closed upon it as a vice.
+
+"Hold! Hold! I'll pull you out!"
+
+But for the hard labor of the past few weeks Adrian's muscles could
+not have stood the strain. Yet they did, and as he drew the nearly
+senseless Pierre upon the rock beside himself his soul went up in such
+glad thanksgiving as he had never known, or might know again. A life
+saved. That was worth all things.
+
+For an hour they lay there, resting, recovering; then Pierre, himself,
+stood up to see what chance there was for a fuller deliverance. He was
+a very sober and altered Pierre, and his drenched clothing added to
+the forlornness of his appearance.
+
+"Nothing left but--us. Came nigh bein' only you. Say, Adrian, I shan't
+forget it."
+
+"How are we going to get ashore?"
+
+"'Tisn't much harder'n Margot's stepping-stones. Done them times
+enough."
+
+Again Adrian was grateful for his forest experience, but he asked with
+some anxiety:
+
+"Suppose you are strong enough to do it?"
+
+"Isn't any supposin' about it. Got to. Might as well died in the pool
+as starve on this rock."
+
+Adrian didn't see that there was much better than starvation before
+them even if they did reach shore, but he kept his fear to himself.
+Besides, it was not probable that they had been saved from the flood
+to perish in the forest. They would better look at the bright side of
+the situation, if they hoped to find such.
+
+"I can jump them."
+
+"So can I."
+
+"Don't let go that pole. I mean to keep that as long as I live--'less
+you want it yourself. If you do----"
+
+"No, Pierre, it belongs to you, and doubly now. Which should go
+first--you or I?"
+
+"Draw lots. If that one falls in, the other must fish him out. Only we
+won't try it on this side, by the pool."
+
+They carefully surveyed the crossing, almost as dangerous an affair as
+shooting the rapids had been. Yet, as Pierre had said, they "had to."
+
+Adrian picked a bit of floating weed that had swept within his reach
+and broke it into unequal portions. The shortest bit fell to him and
+with as cheerful a "here goes!" as he could muster he sprang for
+the next stone. He made it; more easily than he had hoped, and saw
+that his best chance lay in looking straight ahead to the next
+landing-point--and the next--never down at the swirling river.
+
+"Landed! Come!"
+
+Pierre was heavier but more practiced than his mate, and in a few
+seconds the two stood together on the shore, regarding the ruins of
+their boat and thinking of what they would not have for supper.
+
+All at once Pierre's eye brightened.
+
+"Say! there's been a camp here. Not so long ago, either. See that
+barrel in the brush? There's an old birch shed yonder. Hurrah!"
+
+They did not linger, though Adrian kept hoping that something from
+their lost outfit might be tossed outward toward them, even as Pierre
+had been; but nothing came in sight and he reached the dilapidated
+shed only a few feet behind the other.
+
+"There's a bed left still, but not such a soft one. And there's pork
+in that barrel. Wonder the hedgehogs haven't found it."
+
+But as Pierre thrust his nose into the depths of the cask he
+understood the reason of its safety.
+
+"Whew! Even a porkypine wouldn't touch that! Never mind. Reckon our
+boots'll need greasing after that ducking, or mine will, and it'll
+answer. Anything under the shed?"
+
+"Don't see anything. Wait. Yes, I do. A canvas bag hung up high. Must
+have been forgotten when the campers left, for they took everything
+else, clean sweep. Hurrah! It's beans!"
+
+"Good. Beans are good fodder for hungry cattle."
+
+"How can you eat such hard things? Should think they'd been
+resurrected from the Pyramids."
+
+"Well, I don't know 'Pyramids,' but I do know beans, and how to cook
+them. Fall to. Let's get a fire. I'm nearly frozen."
+
+"Fire? Can you make one?"
+
+"I can try and---- I've got to. When needs must, you know."
+
+Adrian hastily collected some dry twigs and decaying chips and heaped
+them in the sunniest place, but for this was promptly reprimanded by
+the shivering Pierre.
+
+"Don't you know anything at all? Wood won't light, nor burn after 'tis
+lighted, in the sunshine. Stick up something to shade the stuff,
+whilst----"
+
+He illustrated what he did not further say, by carefully selecting
+some hard stones and briskly rubbing them together. A faint spark
+resulted and a thistle-down caught the spark. To the thistle-down he
+held a dried grass blade and another. By this small beginning they
+had soon a tiny blaze and very soon a comforting fire.
+
+When they were partially dried and rested, said Pierre:
+
+"Now, fetch on your beans. While they're cooking, we'll take account
+of what is left."
+
+Adrian brought the bag, refraining from any questions this time. He
+was wondering and watchful. Pierre's misadventures were developing
+unsuspected resources and the spirits of both lads rose again to the
+normal.
+
+"You're so fond of splitting birch for pictures, split me some now for
+a bucket, while I sharpen this knife again. Lucky for me my pocket
+buttoned, else it would have gone to the bottom of that pool. Got
+yours?"
+
+"Yes. I didn't fall in, you know."
+
+"Then I don't ask odds of anybody. I'd rather have a good axe, but
+when I can't get my rather I take the next best thing."
+
+Adrian procured the strips of birch, which grows so plentifully to
+hand in all that woodland, and when Pierre had trimmed it into the
+desired shape he deftly rolled it and tied it with stout rootlets, and
+behold! there was a shapely sort of kettle, with a twig for a handle.
+But of what use it might be the city lad had yet to learn.
+
+Pierre filled the affair with water and put into it a good handful of
+the beans. Then he fixed a crotched stick over his fire and hung the
+birch kettle upon it.
+
+"Oh! don't waste them. I know. I saw Angelique soak them, as they did
+at camp. I know, now. If we can't cook them we can make them swell up
+in water, and starving men can exist on such food till they reach a
+settlement. Of course we'll start as soon as you're all right."
+
+"We'll start when we're ready. That's after we've had something to eat
+and have made our new canoe. Never struck a spot where there was
+likelier birches. 'Twon't be the first one I've built or seen built.
+Say. Seems as if that God that Margot is always saying takes care of
+folks must have had a hand in this. Doesn't it?"
+
+"Yes. It does," answered Adrian, reverently. Surely, Pierre was a
+changed and better lad.
+
+Then his eyes rested on the wooden dinner-pot, and to his astonishment
+it was not burning but hung steadily in its place and the water in it
+was already beginning to simmer. Above the water line the bark
+shrivelled and scorched slightly, but Pierre looked out for this and
+with a scoop made from a leaf replenished the water as it steamed
+away. The beans, too, were swelling and gave every promise of
+cooking--in due course of time. Meanwhile, the cook rolled himself
+over and about in the warmth of the fire till his clothes were dry and
+all the cold had left his body. Also, he had observed Adrian's
+surprise with a pardonable pride.
+
+"Lose an Indian in the woods and he's as rich as a lord. It's the
+Indian in me coming out now."
+
+"It's an extra sense. Divination, instinct, something better than
+education."
+
+"What the master calls 'woodcraft.' Yes. Wonder how he is, and all of
+them. Say. What do you think I thought about when I was whirling round
+that pool, before I didn't think of anything?"
+
+"Your sins, I suppose. That's what I've heard comes to a drowning
+man."
+
+"Shucks! Saw the mére's face when she broke that glass! Fact. Though I
+wasn't there at the time. And one thing more: saw that ridiculous
+Xanthippé, looking like she'd never done a thing but warble. Oh! my!
+How I do wish Margot'd sell her."
+
+"Shall I help you get birch for the canoe now? I begin to believe you
+can do even that, you are so clever."
+
+This praise was sweet to Pierre's vain ears and had the result which
+Adrian desired, of diverting the talk from their island friends. In
+their present situation, hopeful as the other pretended to find it, he
+felt it best for his own peace of mind not to recall loved and absent
+faces.
+
+They went to work with a will, and will it was that helped them; else
+with the poor tools at hand they had never accomplished their
+undertaking. Indeed, it was a labor of considerable time. Not only was
+that first meal of boiled beans cooked and eaten, but several more of
+the same sort followed. To vary these, Pierre baked some, in the same
+method as he had boiled them, or else in the ashes of their fire. He
+even fashioned a sort of hook from a coat button and with cedar roots
+for a line, caught a fish now and then. But they craved the seasoning
+of salt, and even the dessert of blue-berries which nature provided
+them could not satisfy this longing, which grew almost intolerable to
+Adrian's civilized palate.
+
+"Queer, isn't it? When I was at that lumber camp I nearly died because
+all the meat, or nearly all, was so salt. Got so I couldn't eat
+anything, hardly. Now, just because I haven't salt I can't eat,
+either."
+
+"Indians not that way. Indians eat one thing same's another. Indian
+just wants to live, don't care about the rest. Indian never eats too
+much. I'm all Indian now."
+
+Adrian opened his eyes to their widest, then threw himself back and
+laughed till the tears came.
+
+"Pierre, Pierre! Would you had been 'all Indian' when you tackled
+Angelique's fried chicken! Umm! I can taste it now!"
+
+But at length the new canoe was ready. They had put as few ribs into
+it as would suffice to hold it in shape and Pierre had carefully sewn
+it with the roots of the black cedar, which serves the woodsman for so
+many purposes, where thread or twine is needed. They had made a paddle
+and a pole as well as they could with their knives, and having nothing
+to pack except themselves and their small remnant of beans, made their
+last camp-fire at that spot and lay down to sleep.
+
+But the dreams of both were troubled; and in the night Adrian rose and
+went to add wood to the fire. It had died down to coals, but his
+attention was caught by a ring of white light upon the ashes, wholly
+distinct from the red embers.
+
+"What's that?"
+
+In a moment he had answered his own question. It was the
+phosphorescent glow from the inner bark of a half burned log,
+and further away he saw another portion of the same log making a
+ghostly radiance on the surrounding ground.
+
+"Oh! I wouldn't have missed that for anything. Mr. Dutton told me of
+beautiful sights he had witnessed and of the strange will-o'-the-wisps
+that abound in the forest. I'll gather some of the chips."
+
+He did so, and they made a fairy-like radiance over his palm; but
+while he was intently studying them, he felt his hand rudely knocked
+up, so that the bits of wood flew out of it.
+
+"Pierre! Stop that!"
+
+"Don't you know what that is? A warning--a sign--an omen. Oh! if I had
+never come upon this trip!"
+
+"You foolish fellow. Just as I thought you were beginning to get
+sense. Nothing in the world but decayed bark and chemical----"
+
+Pierre stopped his ears.
+
+"I was dreaming of the mére. She came with her apron to her eyes and
+her clothes in tatters. She was scolding----"
+
+"Perfectly natural."
+
+"And begging me----"
+
+"Not to eat so many half-baked beans for supper."
+
+"There's something wrong at the island. I saw the cabin all dark. I
+saw Margot's eyes red with weeping."
+
+"No doubt Tom has been into fresh mischief and your mother has
+punished him."
+
+Pierre ignored these flippant interruptions, but rehearsed his dismal
+visions till Adrian lost patience and pushed him aside.
+
+"Go. Bring an armful of fresh wood; some that isn't phosphorescent, if
+you prefer. That'll wake you up and drive the megrims out of your
+mind."
+
+"'Tis neither of them things. 'Tis a warning. They were all painted
+with black, and all the Hollow creatures were painted, too. 'Tis a
+warning. I shall see death before I am----"
+
+Even while he maundered on in this strain he was unconsciously obeying
+the command to fetch wood, and moved toward a pile left ready. Now, in
+raking this together, Adrian had, also, swept that spot of ground
+clean and exposed; and what neither had observed in the twilight was
+plainly revealed by the glow and shadows cast by the fire.
+
+This was a low, carefully made mound that, in shape and significance,
+could be confounded with no other sort of mound, wherever met. Both
+recognized it at once, and even upon Adrian the shock was painful;
+but its effect upon superstitious Pierre was far greater. With a
+shriek that startled the silence of the forest he flung himself
+headlong.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+DIVERGING ROADS
+
+
+"Get up, Pierre. You should be ashamed of yourself!"
+
+It needed a strong and firm grasp to force the terrified lad to his
+feet and even when he, at last, stood up he shivered like an aspen.
+
+"A grave!"
+
+"Certainly. A grave. But neither yours nor mine. Only that of some
+poor fellow who has died in the wilderness. I'm sorry I piled the
+brush upon it, yet glad we discovered it in the end."
+
+"Gla-a-ad!" gasped the other.
+
+"Yes. Of course. I mean to cover it with fresh sods and plant some of
+those purple orchids at its head. I'll cut a cedar headstone, too, and
+mark it so that nobody else shall desecrate it as we have done."
+
+"You mustn't touch it! It's nobody's--only a warning."
+
+"A warning, surely; that we must take great care lest a like fate come
+on us; but somebody lies under that mound and I pity him. Most
+probable that he lost his life in that very whirlpool which wrecked
+us. Twice I've been upset and lost all my belongings, but escaped
+safe. I hope I'll not run the same chance again. Come. Lie down again,
+and go to sleep."
+
+"Couldn't sleep; to try in such a haunted place would be to be
+'spelled'----"
+
+"Pierre Ricord! For a fellow that's so smart at some things you are
+the biggest dunce I know, in others. Haven't we slept like lords ever
+since we struck this camp? I'm going to make my bed up again and turn
+in. I advise you to do the same."
+
+Adrian tossed the branches aside, then rearranged them, lapping the
+soft ends over the hard ones in an orderly row which would have
+pleased a housewife. Thus freshened his odorous mattress was as good
+as new, and stretching himself upon it he went to sleep immediately.
+
+Pierre fully intended to keep awake; but fatigue and loneliness
+prevailed, and five minutes later he had crept close to Adrian's side.
+
+The sunshine on his face, and the sound of a knife cutting wood awoke
+him; and there was Adrian whittling away at a broad slab of cedar,
+smiling and jeering, and in the best of spirits, despite his rather
+solemn occupation.
+
+"For a fellow who wouldn't sleep, you've done pretty well. See. I've
+caught a fish and set it cooking. I've picked a pile of berries, and
+have nearly finished this headstone. Added another accomplishment to
+my many--monument maker. But I'm wrong to laugh over that, though the
+poor unknown to whom it belongs would be grateful to me, I've no
+doubt. Lend a hand, will you?"
+
+But nothing would induce Pierre to engage in any such business. Nor
+would he touch his breakfast while Adrian's knife was busy. He sat
+apart, looking anywhere rather than toward his mate, and talking over
+his shoulder to him in a strangely subdued voice.
+
+"Adrian!"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Most done?"
+
+"Nearly."
+
+"What you going to put on it?"
+
+"I've been wondering. Think this: 'To the Memory of My Unknown
+Brother.'"
+
+"Wh-a-a-t!"
+
+Adrian repeated the inscription.
+
+"He was no kin to you."
+
+"We are all kin. It's all one world, God's world. All the people and
+all these forests, and the creatures in them--I tell you I've never
+heard a sermon that touched me as the sight of this grave in the
+wilderness has touched me. I mean to be a better, kinder man, because
+of it. Margot was right, none of us has a right to his own self.
+She told me often that I should go home to my own folks and make
+everything right with them; then, if I could, come back and live in
+the woods, somewhere. 'If I felt I must.' But I don't feel that way
+now. I want to get back and go to work. I want to live so that when I
+die--like that poor chap, yonder,--somebody will have been the better
+for my life. Pshaw! Why do I talk to you like this? Anyway, I'll set
+this slab in place, and then----"
+
+Pierre rose and still without looking Adrian's way, pushed the new
+canoe into the water. He had carefully pitched it, on the day before,
+with a mixture of the old pork grease and gum from the trees, so that
+there need be no delay at starting.
+
+Adrian finished his work, lettered the slab with a coal from the
+fire, and re-watered the wild flowers he had already planted.
+
+"Aren't you going to eat breakfast first?"
+
+"Not in a graveyard," answered Pierre, with a solemnity that checked
+Adrian's desire to smile.
+
+A last reverent attention, a final clearing of all rubbish from the
+spot, and he, too, stepped into the canoe and picked up his paddle.
+They had passed the rapids and reached a smooth stretch of the river,
+where they had camped, and now pulled steadily and easily away,
+once more upon their journey south. But not till they had put a
+considerable distance between themselves and that woodland grave,
+would Pierre consent to stop and eat the food that Adrian had
+prepared. Even then, he restricted the amount to be consumed,
+remarking with doleful conviction:
+
+"We're going to be starved before we reach Donovan's. The 'food stick'
+burnt off and dropped into the fire, last night."
+
+Adrian remembered that his mate had spoken of it at the time, when by
+some carelessness, they had not secured the crotched sapling on which
+they hung their birch kettle.
+
+"Oh! you simple thing. Why will you go through life tormenting
+yourself with such nonsense? Come. Eat your breakfast. We're going
+straight to Donovan's as fast as we can. I've done with the woods
+for a time. So should you be done. You're needed at the island. Not
+because of any dreams but because the more I recall of Mr. Dutton's
+appearance the surer I am that he is a sick man. You'll go back,
+won't you?"
+
+"Yes. I'm going back. Not because you ask me, though."
+
+"I don't care why--only go."
+
+"I'm not going into the show business."
+
+Adrian smiled. "Of course you're not. You'll never have money enough.
+It would cost lots."
+
+"'Tisn't that. 'Twas the dream. That was sent me. All them animals in
+black paint, and the blue herons without any heads, and---- My mother
+came for me, last night."
+
+"I heartily wish you could go to her this minute! She's superstitious
+enough, in all conscience, yet she has the happy faculty of keeping
+her lugubrious son in subjection."
+
+Whenever Pierre became particularly depressing the other would rattle
+off as many of the longest words as occurred to him. They had the
+effect of diverting his comrade's thoughts.
+
+Then they pulled on again, nor did anything disastrous happen to
+further hinder their progress. The food did not give out, for they
+lived mostly upon berries, having neither time nor desire to stop and
+cook their remnant of beans. When they were especially tired Pierre
+lighted a fire and made a bucket of hemlock tea, but Adrian found cold
+water preferable to this decoction; and, in fact, they were much
+nearer Donovan's, that first settlement in the wilderness, than even
+Pierre had suspected.
+
+Their last portage was made--an easy one, there being nothing but
+themselves and the canoe to carry--and they came to a big dead water
+where they had looked to find another running stream; but had no
+sooner sighted it than their ears were greeted by the laughter of
+loons, which threw up their legs and dived beneath the surface in that
+absurd manner which Adrian always found amusing.
+
+"Bad luck, again!" cried Pierre, instantly, "never hear a loon
+but----"
+
+"But you see a house! Look, look! Donovan's, or somebody's, no matter
+whose! A house, a house!"
+
+There, indeed, it lay; a goodly farmstead, with its substantial
+cabins, its outbuildings, its groups of cattle on the cleared land,
+and--yes, yes, its moving human beings, and what seemed oddest still,
+its teams of horses.
+
+Even Pierre was silent, and tears sprang to the eyes of both lads as
+they gazed. Until that moment neither had fully realized how lonely
+and desolate had been their situation.
+
+"Now for it! It's a biggish lake and we're pretty tired! But that
+means rest, plenty to eat, people--everything."
+
+Their rudely built canoe was almost useless when they beached it at
+last on Donovan's wharf, and their own strength was spent. But it was
+a hospitable household to which they had come, and one quite used to
+welcoming wanderers from the forest. They were fed and clothed and
+bedded, without question, but, when a long sleep had set them both
+right, tongues wagged and plans were settled with amazing promptness.
+
+For there were other guests at the farm; a party of prospectors, going
+north into the woods to locate timber for the next season's cutting.
+These would be glad of Pierre's company and help, and would pay him
+"the going wages." But they would not return by the route he had come,
+though by leaving theirs at a point well north, he could easily make
+his way back to the island.
+
+"So you shot the poor moose for nothing. You cannot even have his
+horns!" said Adrian reproachfully. "Well, as soon as I can vote, I
+mean to use all my influence to stop this murder in the forest."
+
+The strangers smiled and shrugged their shoulders. "We're after game
+ourselves, as well as timber, but legislation is already in progress
+to stop the indiscriminate slaughter of the fast disappearing moose
+and caribou. Five hundred dollars is the fine to be imposed for any
+infringement of the law, once passed."
+
+Pierre's jaw dropped. He was so impressed by the long words and the
+mention of that, to him, enormous sum, that he was rendered speechless
+for a longer time than Adrian ever remembered. But, if he said
+nothing, he reflected sadly upon the magnificent antlers he should see
+no more.
+
+Adrian's affairs were also, speedily and satisfactorily arranged.
+Farmer Donovan would willingly take him to the nearest stage route;
+thence to a railway would be easy journeying; and by steam he could
+travel swiftly, indeed, to that distant home which he now so longed to
+see.
+
+The parting of the lads was brief, but not without emotion. Two people
+cannot go through their experiences and dangers, to remain indifferent
+to each other. In both their hearts was now the kindliest feeling and
+the sincere hope that they should meet again. Pierre departed first
+and looked back many times at the tall, graceful figure of his
+comrade; then the trees intervened and the forest had again swallowed
+him into its familiar depths.
+
+Then Adrian, also, stepped upon the waiting buck-board and was driven
+over the rough road in the opposite direction.
+
+Three days later, with nothing in his pocket but his treasured knife,
+a roll of birch-bark, and the ten-dollar piece which, through all his
+adventures, he had worn pinned to his inner clothing, "a make-piece
+offering" to his mother he reached the brown stone steps to his
+father's city mansion.
+
+There, for the first time, he hesitated. All the bitterness with which
+he had descended those steps, banished in disgrace, was keenly
+remembered.
+
+"Can I, shall I, dare I go up and ring that bell?"
+
+A vision floated before him. Margot's earnest face and tear-dimmed
+eyes. Her lips speaking:
+
+"If I had father or mother anywhere--nothing should ever make me leave
+them. I would bear everything--but I would be true to them."
+
+An instant later a peal rang through that silent house, such as it had
+not echoed in many a day. What would be the answer to it?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+IN THE HOUR OF DARKNESS
+
+
+"No sign yet?"
+
+"No sign." Margot's tone was almost hopeless. Day after day, many
+times each day, she had climbed the pine-tree flagstaff and peered
+into the distance. Not once had anything been visible, save that wide
+stretch of forest and the shining lake.
+
+"Suppose you cross again, to old Joe's. He might be back by this time.
+I'll fix you a bite of dinner, and you better. Maybe----"
+
+The girl shook her head and clasped her arms about old Angelique's
+neck. Then the long repressed grief burst forth in dry sobs that shook
+them both, and pierced the housekeeper's faithful heart with a pain
+beyond endurance.
+
+"Pst! Pouf! Hush, sweetheart, hush! 'Tis nought. A few days more and
+the master will be well. A few days more and Pierre will come---- Ah!
+but I had my hands about his ears this minute! That would teach him,
+yes, to turn his back on duty, him. The ingrate! Well, what the Lord
+sends the body must bear."
+
+Margot lifted her head, shook back her hair, and smiled wanly. The
+veriest ghost of her old smile, it was, yet even such a delight to the
+other's eyes.
+
+"Good. That's right. Rouse up. There's a wing of a fowl in the
+cupboard, left from the master's broth----"
+
+"Angelique, he didn't touch it, to-day. Not even touch it."
+
+"'Tis nought. When the fever is on the appetite is gone. Will be all
+right once that is over."
+
+"But, will it ever be over? Day after day, just the same. Always that
+tossing to and fro, the queer, jumbled talk, the growing thinner--all
+of the dreadful signs of how he suffers. Angelique, if I could bear it
+for him! I am so young and strong and worth nothing to this world
+while he's so wise and good. Everybody who ever knew him must be the
+better for Uncle Hughie."
+
+"'Tis truth. For that, the good Lord will spare him to us. Of that be
+sure."
+
+"But I pray and pray and pray, and there comes no answer. He is never
+any better. You know that. You can't deny it. Always before when I
+have prayed the answer has come swift and sure, but now----"
+
+"Take care, Margot. 'Tis not for us to judge the Lord's strange ways.
+Else were not you and me and the master shut up alone on this island,
+with no doctor near, and only our two selves to keep the dumb things
+in comfort, though, as for dumbness, hark yonder beast!"
+
+"Reynard! Oh! I forgot. I shut him up because he would hang about the
+house and watch your poor chickens. If he'd stay in his own forest
+now, I would be so glad. Yet I love him----"
+
+"Aye, and he loves you. Be thankful. Even a beastie's love is of God's
+sending. Go feed him. Here. The wing you'll not eat yourself."
+
+There were dark days now on the once sunny island of peace.
+
+That day when Mr. Dutton had said: "Your father is still alive,"
+seemed now to Margot, looking back, as one of such experiences as
+change a whole life. Up till that morning she had been a thoughtless,
+unreflecting child, but the utterance of those fateful words altered
+everything.
+
+Amazement, unbelief of what her ears told her, indignation that she
+had been so long deceived--as she put it--were swiftly followed by a
+dreadful fear. Even while he spoke, the woodlander's figure swayed and
+trembled, the hoe-handle on which he rested wavered and fell, and he,
+too, would have fallen had not the girl's arms caught and eased his
+sudden sinking in the furrow he had worked. Her shrill cry of alarm
+had reached Angelique, always alert for trouble and then more than
+ever, and had brought her swiftly to the field. Between them they had
+carried the now unconscious man within and laid him on his bed. He had
+never risen from it since; nor, in her heart, did Angelique believe he
+ever would, though she so stoutly asserted to the contrary before
+Margot.
+
+"We have changed places, Angelique, dear," the child often said. "It
+used to be you who was always croaking and looking for trouble. Now
+you see only brightness."
+
+"Well, good sooth. 'Tis a long lane has no turnin', and better late
+nor never. Sometimes 'tis well to say 'stay good trouble lest worser
+comes,' eh? But things'll mend. They must. Now, run and climb the
+tree. It might be this ver' minute that wretch, Pierre, was on his way
+across the lake. Pouf! But he'll stir his lazy bones, once he touches
+this shore! Yes, yes, indeed. Run and hail him, maybe."
+
+So Margot had gone, again and again, and had returned to sit beside
+her uncle's bed, anxious and watchful.
+
+Often, also, she had paddled across the narrows and made her way
+swiftly to a little clearing on her uncle's land, where, among giant
+trees, old Joseph Wills, the Indian guide and faithful friend of all
+on Peace Island, made one of his homes. Once Mr. Dutton had nursed
+this red man through a dangerous illness, and had kept him in his own
+home for many weeks thereafter. He would have been the very nurse they
+now needed, in their turn, could he have been found. But his cabin was
+closed, and on its doorway, under the family sign-picture of a turtle
+on a rock, he had printed in dialect, what signified his departure for
+a long hunting trip.
+
+Now, as Angelique advised, she resolved to try once more; and hurrying
+to the shore, pushed her canoe into the water and paddled swiftly
+away. She had taken the neglected Reynard with her and Tom had invited
+himself to be a party of the trip; and in the odd but sympathetic
+companionship, Margot's spirits rose again.
+
+"It must be as Angelique says. The long lane will turn. Why have I
+been so easily discouraged? I never saw my precious uncle ill before,
+and that is why I have been so frightened. I suppose anybody gets thin
+and says things, when there is fever. But he's troubled about
+something. He wants to do something that neither of us understand.
+Unless---- Oh! I believe I do understand! My head is clearer out here
+on the water, and I know, I know! it is just about the time of year
+when he goes away on those long trips of his. And we've been so
+anxious we never remembered. That's it. That surely is it. Then, of
+course, Joe will be back now or soon. He always stays on the island
+when uncle goes and he'll remember. Oh! I'm brighter already, and I
+guess, I believe, it is as Angelique claims--God won't take away so
+good a man as uncle and leave me alone. Though--I am not alone! I have
+a father! I have a father, somewhere, if I only knew--all in good
+time--and I'm growing gladder and gladder every minute."
+
+She could even sing to the stroke of her paddle and she skimmed the
+water with increasing speed. Whatever the reason for her growing
+cheerfulness, whether the reaction of youth or a prescience of
+happiness to come, the result was the same; she reached the further
+shore flushed and eager eyed, more like the old Margot than she had
+been for many days.
+
+"Oh! he's there. He is at home. There is a smoke coming out the
+chimney. Joseph! Oh! Joseph, Joseph!"
+
+She did not even stop to take care of her canoe but left it to float
+whither it would. Nothing mattered, Joseph was at home. He had canoes
+galore, and he was help indeed.
+
+She was quite right. The old man came to his doorway and waited her
+arrival with apparent indifference, though surely no human heart
+could have been unmoved by such unfeigned delight. Catching his
+unresponsive hands in hers she cried:
+
+"Come at once, Joseph! At once!"
+
+"Does not the master trust his friend? It is the time to come.
+Therefore I am here."
+
+"Of course. I just thought about that. But, Joseph, the master is ill.
+He knows nothing any more. If he ever needed you he needs you doubly
+now. Come, come at once."
+
+Then, indeed, though there was little outward expression of it, was
+old Joseph moved. He stopped for nothing, but leaving his fire burning
+on the hearth and his supper cooking before it, went out and closed
+the door. Even Margot's nimble feet had ado to keep pace with his long
+strides and she had to spring before him to prevent his pushing off
+without her.
+
+"No, no. I'm going with you. Here. I'll tow my own boat, with Tom and
+Reynard--don't you squabble, pets!--but I'll paddle no more while
+you're here to do it for me."
+
+Joseph did not answer, but he allowed her to seat herself where she
+pleased and with one strong movement sent his big birch a long
+distance over the water.
+
+Margot had never made the passage so swiftly, but the motion suited
+her exactly, and she leaped ashore almost before it was reached, to
+speed up the hill and call out to Angelique wherever she might be:
+
+"All is well! All will now be well--Joseph has come."
+
+The Indian reached the house but just behind her and acknowledged
+Angelique's greeting with a sort of grunt; yet he paused not at all to
+ask the way or if he might enter the master's room, passing directly
+into it as if by right.
+
+Margot followed him, cautioning, with finger on lip, anxious lest her
+patient should be shocked and harmed by the too sudden appearance of
+the visitor.
+
+Then and only then, when her beloved child was safely out of sight did
+Angelique throw her apron over her head and give her own despairing
+tears free vent. She was spent and very weary; but help had come; and
+in the revulsion of that relief nature gave way. Her tears ceased, her
+breath came heavily, and the poor woman slept, the first refreshing
+slumber of an unmeasured time.
+
+When she waked at length, Joseph was crossing the room. The fire had
+died out, twilight was falling, she was conscious of duties left
+undone. Yet there was light enough left for her to scan the Indian's
+impassive face with keen intensity, and though he turned neither to
+the right nor left but went out with no word or gesture to satisfy her
+craving, she felt that she had had her answer:
+
+"Unless a miracle is wrought my master is doomed."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE LETTER
+
+
+From the moment of his entrance to the sick room, old Joe assumed all
+charge to it, and with scant courtesy banished from it both Angelique
+and Margot.
+
+"But he is mine, my own precious uncle. Joe has no right to keep me
+out!" protested Margot, vehemently.
+
+Angelique was wiser. "In his own way, among his own folks, that Indian
+good doctor. Leave him be. Yes. If my master can be save', Joe
+Wills'll save him. That's as God plans; but if I hadn't broke----"
+
+"Angelique! Don't you ever, ever let me hear that dreadful talk again!
+I can't bear it. I don't believe it. I won't hear it. I will not. Do
+you suppose that our dear Lord is--will----"
+
+She could not finish her sentence and Angelique was frightened by the
+intensity of the girl's excitement. Was she, too, growing feverish
+and ill? But Margot's outburst had worked off some of her own
+uncomprehended terror, and she grew calm again. Though it had not been
+put into so many words, she knew from both Angelique's and Joseph's
+manner that they anticipated but one end to her guardian's illness.
+She had never seen death, except among the birds and beasts of the
+forest, and even then it had been horrible to her; and that this
+should come into her own happy home was unbearable.
+
+Then she reflected. Hugh Dutton's example had been her instruction,
+and she had never seen him idle. At times when he seemed most so,
+sitting among his books, or gazing silently into the fire, his brain
+had been active over some problem that perplexed or interested him.
+"Never hasting, never wasting," time, nor thought, nor any energy of
+life. That was his rule and she would make it hers.
+
+"I can, at least, make things more comfortable out of doors. Angelique
+has let even Snowfoot suffer, sometimes, for want of the grooming and
+care she's always had. The poultry, too, and the poor garden. I'm glad
+I'm strong enough to rake and hoe, even if I couldn't lift uncle as
+Joe does."
+
+Her industry brought its own reward. Things outside the house took
+on a more natural aspect. The weeds were cleared away, and both
+vegetables and flowers lifted their heads more cheerfully. Snowfoot
+showed the benefit of the attention she received, and the forgotten
+family in the Hollow chattered and gamboled in delight at the
+reappearance among them of their indulgent mistress. Margot herself
+grew lighter of heart and more positive that, after all, things would
+end well.
+
+"You see, Angelique dismal, we might as well take that broken glass
+sign to mean good things as evil. That uncle will soon be up and
+around again; Pierre be at home; and the 'specimen' from the old cave
+prove copper or something just as rich; and--everybody be as happy as
+a king."
+
+Angelique grunted her disbelief, but was thankful for the other's
+lighter mood.
+
+"Well, then, if you've so much time and strength to spare, go yonder
+and clean up the room that Adrian left so untidy. Where he never
+should have been, had I my own way; but one never has that in this
+world; hey, no. Indeed, no. Ever'thin' goes contrary, else I'd have
+cleared away all trace long sin'. Yes, indeed, yes."
+
+"Well, he is gone. There's no need to abuse him, even if he did not
+have the politeness to say good-bye. Though, I suppose, it was my
+uncle who put a stop to that. What uncle has to do he does at
+once. There's never any hesitation about uncle. But I wish--I
+wish--Angelique Ricord, do you know something? Do you know all the
+history of this family?"
+
+"Why should I not, eh?" demanded the woman, indignantly. "Is it not my
+own family, yes? What is Pierre but one son? I love him, oh! yes.
+But----"
+
+"You adore him, bad and trying as he is. But there is something you
+must tell me. If you know it. Maybe you do not. I did not, till that
+awful morning when he was taken ill. But that very minute he told me
+what I had never dreamed. I was angry; for a moment I almost hated him
+because he had deceived me, though afterward I knew that he had done
+it for the best and would tell me why when he could. So I've tried to
+trust him just the same and be patient. But--he may never be able--and
+I must know. Angelique, where is my father?"
+
+The housekeeper was so startled that she dropped the plate she was
+wiping and broke it. Yet even at that fresh omen of disaster she could
+not remove her gaze from the girl's face nor banish the dismay of her
+own.
+
+"He told--you--that--that----"
+
+"That my father is still alive. He would, I think have told me more;
+all that there may be yet to tell, if he had not so suddenly been
+stricken. Where is my father?"
+
+[Illustration: "WHERE IS MY FATHER?"]
+
+"Oh! child, child! Don't ask me. It is not for me----"
+
+"If uncle cannot and you can, and there is no other person,
+Angelique--you must!"
+
+"This much, then. It is in a far, far away city, or town, or place, he
+lives. I know not, I. This much I know. He is good, a ver' good man.
+And he have enemies. Yes. They have done him much harm. Some day, in
+many years, maybe when you have grown a woman, old like me, he will
+come to Peace Island and forget. That is why we wait. That is why the
+master goes, once each summer, on the long, long trip. When Joseph
+comes, and the bad Pierre to stay. I, too, wait to see him though I
+never have. And when he comes, we must be ver' tender, me and you, for
+people who have been done wrong to, they--they---- Pouf! 'Twas anger I
+was that the master could put the evil-come into that room, yes."
+
+"Angelique! Is that my father's room? Is it? Is that why there are the
+very best things in it? And that wonderful picture? And the fresh
+suits of clothing? Is it?"
+
+Angelique slowly nodded. She had been amazed to find that Margot knew
+thus much of a long withheld history, and saw no harm in adding these
+few facts. The real secret, the heart of the matter--that was not yet.
+Meanwhile, let the child accustom herself to the new ideas and so be
+prepared for what she must certainly learn, should the master's
+illness be a fatal one.
+
+"Oh! then, hear me. That room shall always now be mine to care for. I
+haven't liked the housewifery, not at all. But if I have a father and
+I can do things for him--that alters everything. Oh! you can't mean
+that it will be so long before he comes. You must have been jesting.
+If he knew uncle was ill he would come at once, wouldn't he? He would,
+I know."
+
+Poor Angelique turned her face away to hide its curious expression,
+but in her new interest concerning the "friend's room," as it had
+always been called, Margot did not notice this. She was all eagerness
+and loving excitement.
+
+"To think that I have a father who may come, at any minute, for he
+might, Angelique, you know that, and not be ready for him. Your best
+and newest broom, please; and the softest dusters. That room shall,
+indeed, be cleaned better than anybody else could do it. Just hurry,
+please, I must begin. I must begin right away."
+
+She trembled so that she could hardly braid and pin up her long hair
+out of the way, and her face had regained more than its old-time
+color. She was content to let all that was still a mystery remain for
+the present. She had enough to think about and enjoy.
+
+Angelique brought the things that would be needed and, for once,
+forbore advice. Let love teach the child--she had nought to say. In
+any case she could not have seen the dust, herself, for her dark eyes
+were misty with tears, and her thoughts on matters wholly foreign to
+household cares.
+
+Margot opened the windows and began to dust the various articles
+which could be set out in the wide passage, and did not come round
+to the heavy dresser for some moments. As she did so, finally, her
+glance flew instantly to a bulky parcel, wrapped in sheets of white
+birch-bark, and bearing her own name, in Adrian's handwriting.
+
+"Why, he did remember me, then!" she cried, delightedly, tearing the
+package open. "Pictures! the very ones I liked the best. Xanthippé and
+Socrates, and oh! that's Reynard! Reynard! Reynard, ready to speak!
+The splendid, beautiful creature! and the splendid, generous boy to
+have given it. He called it his 'masterpiece' and, indeed, it was by
+far the best he ever did here. Harmony Hollow--but that's not so fine.
+However, he meant to make it like, and---- Why, here's a note. Why
+didn't I come in here before? Why didn't I think he would do something
+like this? Forgive me, Adrian, wherever you are, for misjudging you
+so. I'm sorry uncle didn't like you and sorry--for lots of things. But
+I'm glad, glad you weren't so rude and mean as I believed. If I ever
+see you I'll tell you so. Now, I'll put these in my own room and then
+get to work again. This room you left so messed shall be as spotless
+as a snowflake before I'm done with it."
+
+For hours she labored there, brushing, renovating, polishing; and when
+all was finished she called Angelique to see and criticise--if she
+could! But she could not; and she, too, had something now of vital
+importance to impart.
+
+"It is beautiful' done, yes, yes. I couldn't do it more clean myself,
+I, Angelique, no. But, my child! Hear, hear, and be calm! The master
+is himself! The master has awoke, yes, and is askin' for his child!
+True, true. Old Joe, he says, 'Come. Quick, soft, no cry, no laugh,
+just listen.' Yes. Oh! now all will be well."
+
+Margot almost hushed her very breathing. Her uncle awake, sane, asking
+for her! Her face was radiant, flushed, eager, a face to brighten the
+gloom of any sick room, however dark.
+
+But this one was not dark. Joe knew his patient's fancies. He had
+forgotten none. One of them was the sunshine and fresh air; and though
+in his heart he believed that these two things did a world of harm,
+and that the ill-ventilated and ill-lighted cabins of his own people
+were more conducive to recovery, he opposed nothing which the master
+desired. He had experimented, at first, but finding a close room
+aggravated Mr. Dutton's fever, reasoned that it was too late to break
+up the foolish habits of a man's lifetime; and as the woodlander had
+lived in the sunlight so he would better die in it, and easier.
+
+If she had been a trained nurse Margot could not have entered her
+uncle's presence more quietly, though it seemed to her that he must
+hear the happy beating of her heart and how her breath came fast and
+short. He was almost too weak to speak at all, but there was all the
+old love, and more, in his whispered greeting:
+
+"My precious child!"
+
+"Yes, uncle. And such a happy child because you are better."
+
+She caught his hand and covered it with kisses, but softly, oh! so
+softly, and he smiled the rare sweet smile that she had feared she'd
+never see again. Then he looked past her to Angelique in the doorway
+and his eyes moved toward his desk in the corner. A little fanciful
+desk that held only his most sacred belongings and had been Margot's
+mother's. It was to be hers some day, but not till he had done with
+it, and she had never cared to own it since doing so meant that he
+could no longer use it. Now she watched him and Angelique wonderingly.
+
+For the woman knew exactly what was required. Without question or
+hesitation she answered the command of his eyes by crossing to the
+desk and opening it with a key she took from her own pocket. Then she
+lifted a letter from an inner drawer and gave it into his thin
+fingers.
+
+"Well done, good Angelique. Margot--the letter--is yours."
+
+"Mine? I am to read it? Now? Here?"
+
+"No, no. No, no, indeed! Would you tire the master with the rustlin'
+of paper? Take it else. Not here, where ever'thin' must be still as
+still."
+
+Mr. Dutton's eyes closed. Angelique knew that she had spoken for him
+and that the disclosure which that letter would make should be faced
+in solitude.
+
+"Is she right, uncle, dearest? Shall I take it away to read?"
+
+His eyes assented, and the tender, reassuring pressure of his hand.
+
+"Then I'm going to your own mountain top with it. To think of having a
+letter from you, right here at home! Why, I can hardly wait! I'm so
+thankful to you for it, and so thankful to God that you are getting
+well. That you will be soon; and then--why, then--we'll go a-fishing!"
+
+A spasm of pain crossed the sick man's wasted features and poor
+Angelique fled the place, forgetful of her own caution to "be still as
+still," and with her own dark face convulsed with grief for the grief
+which the letter would bring to her idolized Margot.
+
+But the girl had already gone away up the slope, faster and faster.
+Surely a letter from nobody but her uncle and at such a solemn time
+must concern but one subject--her father. Now she would know all, and
+her happiness should have no limit.
+
+But it was nightfall when she, at last, came down from the mountain,
+and though there were no signs of tears upon her face neither was
+there any happiness in it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+A QUESTION OF APPAREL
+
+
+"The master."
+
+"He wants me?"
+
+Joe nodded and went out of doors. But it was noticeable that he merely
+walked around to the rear of the sick room and stationed himself
+beside the open window. Not that he might overhear the conversation
+within, but to be near if he were needed. He cast one stern look upon
+Margot, as he summoned her, and was evidently reassured by her own
+calmness.
+
+Three days had passed since she had been given that fateful letter,
+and she had had time to think over its startling contents in every
+connection. There was now not the slightest blame of her guardian for
+having so long kept her in ignorance of her father's existence; and,
+indeed, her love had been strengthened, if that were possible. The
+sick man had gained somewhat, though he was yet very weak and recovery
+was still a question. But, with improvement, came again the terrible
+restlessness and impatience with the circumstances which kept him a
+prisoner in bed, when, of all times in the year, he would be up and
+abroad.
+
+When the child entered the room he was watching for her, eagerly,
+anxiously. How had she borne his news? How would she greet him?
+
+Her first glance answered him. It was so tender, so pitiful, so
+strong.
+
+"My darling! My own Margot! I--need not--have feared."
+
+"There is nothing to fear, dearest uncle. Fear must have been done
+with years ago, when--when--it happened. Now, now, it is time for
+hope, for confidence."
+
+He shook his head mournfully. Then he asked:
+
+"You will let it make no difference in your love, your loyalty to
+him, when--when he comes? If he lives to come?"
+
+"If he had been a father who did not come because he would not, then,
+maybe, I don't know. But a father who could not come, who has been so
+cruelly, frightfully wronged--why, uncle! all my life, no matter how
+long, all my care and devotion, no matter how great, will never, never
+be able to express one-half of my love. And I bless you more for your
+faithfulness to him than for all you've ever done for me--yet even my
+debt to you is boundless."
+
+"My own impulsive, overgrateful Margot! As if it had not been also all
+my life, my happiness. Well, since I cannot go, you must write to him.
+For me and for yourself. Explaining why I cannot come, just yet, but
+that I will as soon as may be. Make it a letter such as you have
+talked just now and it will be better to his hungry heart than even a
+sight of his old friend and brother."
+
+"I will write as many letters for you as you please, but--I will
+deliver them in person."
+
+He did not get the full import of her words, at first, but when he did
+he frowned. It hurt him beyond expression that she should jest on such
+a subject, even for the laudable purpose of cheering himself.
+
+Then he felt her cool hand on his wrist.
+
+"Uncle, I mean it. I have thought it over and over. I have thought of
+nothing else, except that you were getting better, and I know I am
+right. I am going to see my father. I am going to get my father. I
+shall never come back without him. But I shall certainly come, and he
+with me. You cannot go. I can, I want to, beyond telling. I must."
+
+A thousand objections flashed through his mind and the struggle to
+comprehend just what were and were not valid ones wearied him. For
+some time neither of them spoke again, but clasped hands until he fell
+into a sudden sleep. Even then Margot did not release her hold, though
+her cramped position numbed her arm, and her impatience to make him
+see matters from her point of view was hard to control. But he awoke
+almost as suddenly as he had dozed, and with a clear idea of her
+meaning. After all, how simple it was! and what an infinite relief to
+his anxiety.
+
+"Tell me what you think."
+
+"This: My father must not be disappointed. Your visit, the one link
+that connects him with his old life and happiness, is impossible. Each
+year you have taken him reports of me and how I grew. I'm going to
+show him whether you represented me as I am or as your partial eyes
+behold me. More than that, I must go. I must see him. I must put my
+arms about his neck and tell him that I love him, as my mother loved
+him, with all his child's affection added. I must. It is my right."
+
+"But--how. You've never been beyond the forest. You are so young and
+ignorant of--everything."
+
+"Maybe I shall do all the better for that reason. 'Know nothing, fear
+nothing,' and I certainly am not afraid. We are looking for Pierre to
+come home, any day. He should have been here long ago. As soon as he
+comes I will start. Old Joseph shall go with me. He knows what I do
+not, of towns and routes, and all those troublesome things. You will
+give us the money it will cost; and enough to pay for my father's
+coming home. I have made his room ready. There isn't a speck or spot
+in it, and there are fresh flowers every day. There have been ever
+since I knew that room was his. I shall go to that city of New York
+where--where it happened, and I shall find out the truth. I shall
+certainly bring him home with me."
+
+It was absurd. He said that to himself, not once but many times; yet
+despite his common sense and his bitter experience, he could not but
+catch something of her hopefulness. Yet so much the more hard to bear
+would be her disappointment.
+
+"Dear, I have no right, it may be, to stop you. It was agreed upon
+between us that, when you were sixteen years old, if nothing happened
+to make it unnecessary, you should be told. That is, if I believed you
+had a character which could endure sorrow and not turn bitter under
+it. I do so believe, I know. But though you may make the journey, if
+you wish and it can be arranged safely, you must not even hope to do
+more than see your father and that only for a brief time."
+
+Margot smiled. The same bright, unconvinced smile with which she had
+always received any astonishing statement. When, not much more than a
+baby, she had been told that fire would burn, she had laughed her
+unbelief that fire would burn, and had thrust her small hand into the
+flame. The fire had burned, but she had still smiled, and bravely,
+though her lips trembled and there were tears upon her cheeks.
+
+"I must go, uncle. It is my right, and his. I must try this matter for
+myself. I shall never be happy else and I shall succeed. I shall. I
+trust in God. You have taught me that He never fails those who trust
+in Him."
+
+"Have I not trusted? Have I not prayed? Did I not labor till labor was
+useless? But, there, child. Not for me to darken your faith. His ways
+are not as our ways, else this had never come. But you shall go. You
+are right; and may He prosper your devotion!"
+
+She saw that he was tired and, having gained his consent, went gladly
+away to Angelique, to consult with that disturbed person concerning
+her journey.
+
+Angelique heard this strange announcement with incredulity. The master
+was delirious again. That was the explanation. Else he would never,
+never have consented for this outrageous journey from Pontius to
+Pilate, with only a never-say-anything old Indian for escort.
+
+"But you're part Indian yourself, sweet Angelique, so don't abuse your
+own race. As for knowing nothing, who but Joe could have brought my
+uncle through this dreadful sickness so well? I believe it is all a
+beautiful plan.
+
+"Well, we'll see. If Adrian had not come, maybe my uncle would never
+have told me all he has. The letter was written, you know that,
+because he feared he might not live to tell it with his lips. And even
+when he was getting better he thought I still should learn the truth,
+and the written pages held it all. I'm so glad I know. Oh! Angelique,
+think! How happy, how happy we shall be when my father comes home!"
+
+"'Tis that bad Pierre who should be comin', yes. Wait till I get my
+hands about his ears."
+
+"Pierre's too big to have his ears boxed. I don't wonder he hates it.
+I think I would--would box back again if anybody treated me to that
+indignity."
+
+"Pst. Pouf! you are you, and Pierre is Pierre; and as long as he is in
+the world and I am, if his ears need boxin', I shall box them. I, his
+mother."
+
+"Oh! very well. Suit yourself. But now, Angelique!"
+
+"Well? I must go set the churn. Yes, I've wasted too much time,
+already, bein' taught my manners by a chit of a thing like you. Yes. I
+have so. Indeed, yes."
+
+"Come, Angelique. Be good. When you were young, and lived in the
+towns, did the girls who went a-journeying wear bonnets?"
+
+"Did they not? And the good Book that the master reads o' nights,
+sayin' the women must cover their heads. Hmm. I've thought a many time
+how his readin' and his rearin' didn't go hand in glove. Bonnets,
+indeed! Have I not the very one I wore when I came to Peace Island. A
+charmin' thing, all green ribbons and red roses. I shall wear it
+again, to my Pierre's weddin'. 'Tis for that I've been savin' it. And,
+well, because a body has no need to wear out bonnets on this bit of
+land in water. No."
+
+But Angelique was a true woman; and once upon the subject of dress her
+mind refused to be drawn thence. She recalled items of what had been
+her own trousseau, ignoring Margot's ridicule of the clumsy Pierre as
+a bridegroom, and even her assertion that: "I should pity his wife,
+for I expect her ears would have to be boxed, also."
+
+"Come yon. I've that I will show you. 'Tis your mother's own lovely
+clothes. Just as she wore them here, and carefully folded away for you
+till you needed them. Well, that is now, I suppose, if you're to be
+let gad all over the earth, with as good a home as girl ever had right
+here in the peaceful woods."
+
+"Oh! show them to me, Angelique. Quick. Why have you never before? Of
+course, I shall need them now. And, Angelique! That is some more of
+the beautiful plan. The working out of the pattern. Else why should
+there be the clothes here when I need clothes? Answer me that, good
+Angelique, if you can."
+
+"Pst. 'Twas always a bothersome child for questions. But answer one
+yourself. If you had had them before would you have had them ready
+now, and the pleasure of them? No. No, indeed. But come. The clothes
+and then the churnin'. If that Pierre were here, 'twould not be my
+arms would have to ache this night with the dash, dash, dashin'. No.
+No, indeed, no. But come."
+
+Alas! Of all the carefully preserved and dainty garments there was not
+one which Margot could wear.
+
+"Why, Angelique! What a tiny thing she must have been! I can't get
+even my hand through the wrist of this sleeve. And look here. This
+skirt is away up as short as my own. If I've to wear short ones I'll
+not change at all. In the pictures, I've seen lovely ladies with
+skirts on the ground and I thought that was the way I should look if I
+ever went into the world."
+
+"Eh? What? Lovely? You? Hmm. Lovely is that lovely does. Vanity is a
+disgrace to any woman. Has not the master said that often and often?"
+
+Margot flushed. She was not conscious of vanity, yet she did not
+question Angelique's opinion. But she rallied.
+
+"I don't think I should feel at all vain if I put on any of these
+things. That is, if I could even get them on. I should all the time be
+thinking how uncomfortable I was. Well, that's settled. I wear my own
+clothes, and not even my dear mother's. Hers I will always keep for
+her sake; but to her great daughter they are useless. And I'll go
+bareheaded just as here. Why not? I certainly don't need a bonnet,
+with all this hair."
+
+Now Margot's hair was Angelique's especial pride. Indeed, it was a
+wonderful glory upon that shapely young head; but again this was not
+to be admitted.
+
+"Hair! What's hair? Not but you've enough of it for three women, for
+that matter. But it will not do to go that way. It must be braided and
+pinned fast. Here is a bonnet, not so gay as mine, and I would trust
+you with that--only----"
+
+"I wouldn't wear it, dear Angelique. It's lovely and kind for you to
+even think of offering. You must keep that for Pierre's wife, and----"
+
+"I should like to see her with it on! Huh! Indeed! Pouf!"
+
+"There are hats enough of my own mother's, and to wear one may be
+another piece of your 'good luck.' I shall wear this one. It is all
+blue like my frocks, and the little brown ribbon is the color of my
+shoes. Adrian would say that was 'artistic,' if he were here. Oh!
+Angelique! When I go to that far city, do you suppose I shall see
+Adrian? Do you?"
+
+"Do you go there to break your uncle's heart again? 'Tis not Adrian
+you will see, ever again, I hope. No. Indeed, no. See. This shawl. It
+goes so;" and Angelique adjusted the soft, rich fabric around her own
+shoulders, put a hat jauntily upon her head, and surveyed the effect
+with undisguised admiration, as reflected in the little mirror in the
+lid of the big trunk.
+
+"Angelique! Angelique, take care! 'Vanity is a disgrace to any woman!'
+What if that misguided Pierre should see you now? What would he think
+of his----"
+
+Hark! What was that? How dared old Joseph tramp through the house at
+such a pace, with such a noise? and the master still so weak. Why----
+
+The indignant house-mistress disappeared with indignation blazing in
+her eyes.
+
+Margot, also, stood still in the midst of her finery, listening and
+almost as angry as the other; till there came back to her another
+sound so familiar and reassuring that her fears were promptly
+banished, while one more anxiety was lifted from her heart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+COMING AND GOING
+
+
+"Pierre! and Angelique is boxing his ears! My, what a whack, that I
+can hear it way in here! I must to the rescue, but his coming makes
+right for me to go. Angelique, Angelique, don't! Heigho, Pierre! I'm
+glad you're back!"
+
+But if he heard this welcome he did not heed it, and Margot stood
+amazed at the ridiculous scene upon which she had entered.
+
+There was Angelique, still arrayed in her own flower-bedecked bonnet
+and her mistress' India shawl, being whirled about the big kitchen in
+a crazy sort of waltz which seemed to suit the son's excited mood. Her
+bonnet sat rakishly on one side and the rich shawl dragged over the
+floor, which, fortunately, was too clean to harm it; but amidst her
+enforced exercises, the mother continued to aim those resounding blows
+at her son's great ears. Sometimes they hit the mark, but at others
+fell harmlessly upon his broad shoulders. In any case, they seemed not
+to disturb him but rather to add to the homelikeness of his return.
+
+At length, however, he released his irate parent and held out his hand
+to Margot.
+
+"Done the old lady heap of good. How's things? How's the menagerie?
+and the master?"
+
+"Hey? Where's the manners I've always taught you? Askin' for the
+master last when 'tis he is always first. Yes. Yes, indeed. But,
+Pierre, 'twas nigh no master at all you came home to. He's been at
+death's door for weeks. Even yet----"
+
+Then Angelique turned and saw Margot, whose presence she had not
+before observed. But she rallied instantly, turning her sentence into
+a brisk command:
+
+"Even yet, the churnin' not done and it goin' on to measure nine
+o'clock. Get to the dasher, lad, and tie this big apron round your
+neck. Then change that dirty shirt. That a child of mine should wear
+such filthy things. Pouf! you were always the torment; that is so."
+
+"Just the same, Angelique, dear, your eyes are shining like stars, and
+you are happier than you have been a single minute since that bad boy
+of yours paddled away in the night. If he's to churn I'm to sit beside
+him and hear all his long story first. Come on, Pierre! Oh! how good
+it is to have you back!"
+
+It was, also, most delightful to the mother, even though her happiness
+expressed itself in a peculiar way, by grumbling and scolding as she
+had not done once since real trouble fell upon that home, with the
+illness of its master.
+
+The churn stood outside the kitchen door, for Angelique would allow no
+chance of spilled cream on her scoured boards; so Margot settled
+herself on the door-step and listened while the wanderer gave her a
+long and detailed account of his journey. Meanwhile, and at every few
+minutes, his mother would step to his side, take the dasher from his
+hand and force a bit of food within it. He devoured this greedily,
+though he made no comment, and resumed his churning as soon as the
+tid-bit was consumed. Through all, Angelique's face was beaming and
+her lips fretting, till Margot laughed aloud.
+
+"Oh! Angelique Ricord! Of all the odd people you are the oddest!"
+
+"So? Well, then. How many odd people have you seen, my child that you
+should be so fine a judge? So that evil-come departed to his own, he
+did? May his shadow never darken this door again! 'Twas all along of
+him the trouble came."
+
+"No, Angelique, you forget. It must have been the broken glass! How
+could it possibly have been anything else? Never mind, sweetheart;
+when I come home from my long journey I will bring you a new one, big
+and clear, and that has the power to make even plain folks look
+lovely. If my uncle will let me. Dear, but I do wish you had a bit,
+this minute, to see how silly you look with that big bonnet on!"
+
+Angelique's hand flew to her head in comic dismay. She had carefully
+removed and refolded the beautiful shawl, but had quite forgotten her
+other adornment, which she now tore off in a haste that threatened
+damage to the precious possession.
+
+"Pierre, bid her be careful. That is your wife's bonnet!"
+
+Even the housekeeper had to smile at this and listen patiently while
+Margot made much of the incident. Indeed, she would have willingly
+been laughed at indefinitely, if thus she could herself hear these
+young voices gay with the old-time unconcern.
+
+"And Adrian was good to the poor, wild things. Well, I have hopes of
+Adrian. He didn't have the right sort of rearing to know how the
+forest people feel, but he learned fast. I'm thankful, thankful,
+Pierre Ricord, that you had to lose those fine antlers. If you'd sold
+them and made a lot of money by it, you would have forgotten that the
+moose could suffer and have killed many more. As it is, better one
+should die than many. And Pierre, I'm going away myself. Now that
+you've come home, I'm going at once. Old Joseph and I. Clear to that
+far away New York where Adrian has gone, and to many other places,
+too."
+
+Pierre dropped the dasher with such force that the "half-brought"
+butter, which Angelique was opening the churn to "scrape down
+together," splashed out over the step, Margot's lap, and the ground.
+
+Angelique was too indignant to speak, but Margot cried:
+
+"Oh! Pierre! How careless and wasteful. We've none too much butter,
+anyway."
+
+The lad still stared, open-mouthed. After a minute he asked:
+
+"What's that you said? About that New York?"
+
+"I'm going to New York. I'm going in my uncle's place, to attend to my
+uncle's business. Old Joe is to go with me to take care of me--or I of
+him--and you are to stay here with the master and your mother. You may
+bring King Madoc over if you wish; and, by the way, how did you get
+here, if you have lost your own canoe?"
+
+"Helped myself to one of Joe's. Helped myself to a breakfast, too.
+Joe's stocked up for winter, already. But, I say, Margot. He's no use
+in a big city. Better take me. I was goin' anyway, only after
+that--well, that grave, I made up my mind I'd just step back here a
+spell and take a fresh start. I'm ready, any minute, and Joe hates it.
+Hey?"
+
+"I wouldn't trust myself with you a dozen miles. You're too foolish
+and fickle. Joe is steady and faithful. It's settled. I think,
+Angelique, that we can start to-morrow. Don't you?"
+
+Angelique sighed. All her happiness was once more overclouded. Why
+couldn't well enough be let alone? However, she answered nothing. She
+had sometimes ventured to grumble even at the master but she had never
+questioned his decisions. If it was by his will that her inexperienced
+darling was to face the dangers of an unknown world, with nobody but a
+glum old Indian to serve her, of course, there was nothing for it but
+submission.
+
+At daybreak the next morning, Margot stood beside her uncle's bed,
+clasping his thin hands in parting. His eyes were sad and anxious, but
+hers were bright and full of confidence. He had given his last advice;
+she had ample money for all possible needs, with directions upon whom
+to call for more, should anything arise for which they had not
+prepared, and she had, also, her route marked out on paper, with
+innumerable suggestions about this or that stop; and now, there was
+nothing more to do or say but add his blessing and farewell.
+
+[Illustration: HIS BIRCH CANOE PULLED STEADILY AWAY]
+
+"Good-bye, Margot. Into God's hands I give you."
+
+"The same Hands, uncle, which have cared for me always. I shall come
+back and bring our loved one with me. Get well fast, to make him happy
+when he comes."
+
+A hasty kiss to Angelique who was sobbing herself ill, a clasp of
+Pierre's hand, and she was gone. Joe's birch was pulling steadily away
+from the Island of Peace into that outside world of strife and
+contention, of which the young voyager was so wholly ignorant.
+
+Her eyes were wet and her heart ached, with that same sort of physical
+distress which had assailed her when Adrian went away, but now much
+sharper. Yet her lips still smiled and Joseph, furtively regarding
+her, was satisfied. She would give him no trouble.
+
+A few miles' journey and she had entered what seemed like fairyland.
+She had then no time for looking back or remembering. The towns were
+wonderful, and the first time that she saw a young girl of her own age
+she stared until the stranger made a grimace toward her. This
+perplexed and annoyed her, but taught her a lesson: she stared no
+more.
+
+Yet she saw everything; and in that little book her uncle had provided
+for this object made notes of her impressions, to be discussed with
+him upon her return. Her first ride behind horses made her laugh
+aloud. They were so beautiful and graceful and their strength so
+appealed to her animal-loving heart. The ricketty buck-board, which
+was their first vehicle, seemed luxurious, though after a few miles'
+jogging over a corduroy-road she confided to Joseph that she preferred
+a canoe.
+
+"Umm. No shakeum up."
+
+A stage drawn by four steeds, rather the worse for wear, yet with
+the accompaniment of fellow-travelers and a musical horn, brought
+memories of Cinderella and other childish heroines, and made the old
+tales real; but when they reached the railway and stepped into a car
+her interest grew painfully intense. When the conductor paused to
+take their tickets, obligingly procured for this odd pair by the
+stage-driver, Margot immediately requested to be put upon the engine.
+
+"The engine! Well, upon my word!"
+
+"Yes, I've never seen one, except the one in front of this car-train.
+I know how they operate but I would so dearly like to see them working
+close at hand. Can't I?"
+
+The brass-buttoned official made no reply, save to purse his lips and
+utter another low whistle; but he gave Margot and Joe a critical
+survey and reflected that of all the passengers he had ever carried
+these were the most unique. There was something in the girl's
+intelligent face that was hard to deny, and for all his silence,
+perhaps because of it, a certain dignity about the Indian that won
+favor even for him.
+
+It was a way-train on a branch road; one of the connecting links
+between the wilderness and the land of the "through express" else it
+might not have happened that, after so long a time had elapsed that
+Margot felt her request was indeed refused, the conductor returned and
+whispered in her ear. It was a concession, not to be made general; but
+she was informed:
+
+"I've spoken to the engineer and he says he doesn't mind. Not if
+you'll ask no questions and won't bother."
+
+"I'll not. And I thank you very much."
+
+"Hmm. She may be a backwoods girl but she can give a lesson in manners
+to many a city miss," thought the obliging guide, as he led Margot
+forward through the few cars toward the front; and, at the next stop,
+helped her to the ground and up again into the little shut-in space
+beside the grimy driver of this wonderful iron horse.
+
+Margot never forgot that ride; nor the man at the lever his unknown
+passenger. She had left her obnoxious bonnet upon the seat beside old
+Joseph and her hair had broken from its unaccustomed braid to its
+habitual freedom, so that it enveloped her and streamed behind her
+like a cloud. Her trim short skirt, her heelless shoes, her absence
+of "flummery" aroused the engineer's admiration and he volunteered,
+what he had previously declined to give, all possible information
+concerning his beloved locomotive. He even allowed her, for one brief
+moment to put her own hand on the lever and feel the thrill of that
+resistless plunging forward into space.
+
+It was only when they stopped again and she knew she ought to go back
+to Joe that she ventured to speak.
+
+"I never enjoyed anything so much in my life, nor learned so much in
+so short a time. I wish--I wish--have you a sister, or a little girl?
+Or anybody you love very much?"
+
+"Why, yes. I've got the nicest little girl in the United States. She's
+three years old and as cute as they make 'em."
+
+"You've given me pleasure, I'd like to give her as much. May she have
+this from me, to get--whatever a town child would like?"
+
+"Sure, miss, it's too much; but----"
+
+Margot was gone, and on the engineer's palm shone a bright gold coin.
+All Mr. Dutton's money was in specie and he had given Margot a liberal
+amount of "spending money" for her trip. Money being a thing she knew
+as little about as she did traveling he had determined to let her
+learn its value by experience; yet even he might have been a trifle
+shocked by the liberality of this, her first "tip." However, she saw
+only the gratitude that leaped into the trainman's eyes and was glad
+that she had had the piece handy in her pocket.
+
+Yet, delightful as the novelty of their long journey was, Margot found
+it wearisome; and the nearer she reached its end the more a new and
+uncomfortable anxiety beset her. Joseph said nothing. He had never
+complained nor admired, and as far as sociability was concerned he
+might have been one of those other, wooden Indians which began to
+appear on the streets of the towns, before shops where tobacco
+was sold. She looked at Joe, sometimes, wondering if he saw these
+effigies of his race and what were his opinions on the matter. But
+his face remained stolid and she decided that he was indifferent to
+all such slight affairs.
+
+It was when they first stepped out of their train into the great
+station at New York, that the full realization of her undertaking came
+to her. Even Joseph's face now showed some emotion, of dismay and
+bewilderment, and her own courage died in that babel of noises and the
+crowding rush of people, everywhere.
+
+"Why, what has happened? Surely, there must have been some fearful
+accident, or they would not all hurry so."
+
+Then she saw among the crowd, men in a uniform she recognized, from
+the description her uncle had once given her, and remembered that he
+had then told her if ever she were in a strange place and needed help
+it was to such officers she should apply. When this advice had been
+given, a year before, neither had imagined it would so soon be
+useful. But it was with infinite relief that she now clutched Joseph's
+hand and impelled him to go with her. Gaining the side of an officer,
+she caught his arm and demanded:
+
+"What is the matter? Where are all the people hurrying to?"
+
+"Why--nowhere, in special. Why?"
+
+The policeman had, also, been hastening forward as if his life
+depended upon his reaching a certain spot at a certain time, but now
+he slackened his speed and walked quietly along beside this odd girl,
+at the same moment keeping his eye upon a distant group of gamins bent
+on mischief. It had been toward them he had made such speed, but a
+brother officer appearing near them he turned his attention upon
+Margot and her escort.
+
+"Oh! I thought there was something wrong. Is it always such a racketty
+place? This New York?"
+
+"Always. Why, 'tis quiet here to-day, compared to some."
+
+"Are you an officer of the law? Is it your business to take care of
+strangers?"
+
+"Why, yes. I suppose so."
+
+"Can I trust you? Somebody must direct me. I was to take a cab and
+go--to this address. But I don't know what a cab is from any other
+sort of wagon. Will you help me?"
+
+"Certainly. Give me the card."
+
+Margot handed him the paper with the address of the old friend with
+whom her uncle wished her to stop while she was in the city; but the
+moment the policeman looked at it his face fell.
+
+"Why, there isn't any such place, now. All them houses has been torn
+down to put up a sky-scraper. They were torn down six months ago."
+
+"Why, how can that be? This lady has lived in that house all her life,
+my uncle said. She is a widow, very gentle and refined: she was quite
+poor; though once she had plenty of money. She took boarders, to keep
+a roof over her head; and it isn't at all likely that she would tear
+it down and so destroy her only income. You must be mistaken. Won't
+you ask somebody else, who knows more about the city, please?"
+
+The officer bridled, and puffed out his mighty chest. Was not he "one
+of the finest"? as the picked policemen are termed. If he didn't know
+the streets of the metropolis, who did?
+
+Margot saw that she had made a serious mistake. Her head turned giddy,
+the crowd seemed to surge and close about her, and with a sense of
+utter failure and homesickness she fainted away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+IN THE GREAT RAILWAY STATION
+
+
+"There, dear, you are better. Drink this."
+
+Margot opened her eyes in the big waiting-room for women at the great
+station. A kind-faced woman in a white cap and apron was bending over
+her and holding a cup of bouillon to her lips, which obediently opened
+and received the draught with grateful refreshment.
+
+"Thank you. That is good. Where am I? Who are you?"
+
+The attendant explained: and added, with intent to comfort:
+
+"You are all right. You will be cared for. It was the long going
+without food and the sudden confusion of arrival. The Indian says you
+have not eaten in a long time. He is here, I could not keep him out.
+Is--is he safe?"
+
+The hot, strong soup, and the comforting presence restored the girl so
+far that she could laugh.
+
+"Joe safe? Our own dear old Joseph Wills? Why, madam, he is the very
+best guide in all the state of Maine. Aren't you, Joe? And my uncle's
+most trusted friend. Else he would not be here with me. What happened
+to me that things got so queer?"
+
+"You fainted. That's all."
+
+"I? Why, I never did such a thing in my life before."
+
+Joe drew near. His face seemed still impassive but there was a look of
+profound concern in his small, black eyes.
+
+"Wouldn' eat. Get sick. Joe said. Joe hungry, too."
+
+Margot sat up, instantly, smitten with remorse. If this uncomplaining
+friend admitted hunger she must have been remiss, indeed.
+
+"Oh, dear madam! Please get him something to eat, or show him where to
+get it for himself. This last part of the road, or journey, was so
+long. The train didn't stop anywhere, hardly, and I saw none of the
+eating places I had seen on the other trains. We were late, too, in
+starting, and had no breakfast. My own head whirls yet, and poor Joe
+must be famished. I have money, plenty, to pay for everything."
+
+The station matron called an attendant and put Joe in his charge. She,
+also, ordered a tray of food brought from the restaurant and made
+Margot eat. Indeed, she was now quite ready to do this and heartily;
+and her appetite appeased, she told the motherly woman as much of her
+story as was necessary; asking her advice about a stopping place, and
+if she, too, thought it true that the widow's house had been
+demolished.
+
+"Oh, yes, miss. I know that myself, for I live not so far from that
+street. It is, or was, an old-fashioned one, and full of big houses
+that had once been grand but had run down. The property was valuable,
+though, and no doubt the widow bettered herself by selling. More
+than that, if she is still in the city, her name should be in the
+directory. I'll look it up and if I find it, telephone her. After we
+do that will be time enough to look for some other place, if she is
+not to be found."
+
+Margot did not understand all this, and wondered what this quiet,
+orderly person had to do with the starting of trains, which she could
+hear continually moving out and in the monster building, even though
+she could not see them from this inner room. But this wonder was soon
+lost in a fresh surprise as, having consulted a big book which was
+chained to a desk in one corner, the matron came forward, smiling.
+
+"I've found the name, miss. Spelled just as you gave it to me. The
+number is away up town, in Harlem. But I'll ring her up and see."
+
+Again the matron crossed the room, toward a queer looking arrangement
+on the wall; but, a new train arriving, the room so filled with women
+and children that she had no more leisure to attend to Margot.
+However, she managed to tell her:
+
+"Don't worry. I'll be free soon again, for a minute. And I'll tell
+that Indian to sit just outside the door, if you wish. You can sit
+there with him, too, if it makes you feel more at home. You're all
+right now, and will not faint again."
+
+"No, indeed. I never did before nor shall again, I hope."
+
+Yet Margot was very thankful when she and Joe were once more side by
+side, and now amused herself in studying the crowds about her.
+
+"Oh! Joe, there are more 'types' here in a minute than one could see
+at home in years. Look. That's a Swede. I know by the shape of his
+face, and his coloring. Though I never saw a live Swede before."
+
+"Wonder if she ever saw a dead one!" said a voice in passing, and
+Margot knew she had been ridiculed, yet not why. Then, too, she saw
+that many glances were turned upon the bench where she and Joe sat,
+apart from the crowd and, for almost the first time, became conscious
+that in some way she looked not as other people. However, she was
+neither over-sensitive nor given to self-contemplation and she had
+perfect faith in her uncle's judgment. He had lived in this great
+city, he knew what was correct. He had told her to ask the widow to
+supply her with anything that was needed. She had nothing to do now
+but wait till the widow was found, and then she could go on about the
+more important business which had brought her hither.
+
+As she remembered that business, her impatience rose. She was now, she
+must be, not only within a few miles of her unknown father, but of the
+man who had wronged him, whom she was to compel to right that wrong.
+She sprang to her feet. The crowd that had filled the waiting-room was
+again thinning, for a time, and the matron should be free. Would she
+never come?
+
+"Then I'll go to her! Stay right here, Joe. Don't leave this place a
+minute now till I get back. Then we'll not lose each other. I'll come
+for you as soon as I can."
+
+Joe grunted his assent and closed his eyes. He, too, was conscious of
+staring eyes and indignant at them. Had nobody ever seen an Indian
+before? Were not these clothes that he was wearing the Master's gift
+and of the same sort all these other men wore? Let them gaze, if that
+suited the simple creatures. As for him he was comfortable. The bench
+was no harder than the ground. Not much harder. He would sleep. He
+did.
+
+But Margot found the matron doing a strange thing. She had a long pipe
+running from a box on the wall, and sometimes she was calling into it,
+or a hole beside it, in the most absurd way: "Hello! Hello, Central!"
+or else she was holding the tube to her ear and listening.
+
+"What is it? What are you doing?"
+
+"The telephone. I'm ringing up your friend. I'll tell you what I hear,
+soon."
+
+Even the matron rather objected to having this oddly-dressed,
+inquisitive girl continually at hand, asking questions. She was busy
+and tired, and Margot understood that she was dismissed to her bench
+and Joe.
+
+There she settled herself to think. It was time she did. If this
+friendly widow, whom her family had always known, could not be found,
+where should she go? To some hotel she supposed, and wondered which
+and where.
+
+She was still deep in her musings when the matron touched her arm.
+
+"I got an answer. The number is all right. It is the lady's home when
+she is in town, but she has been in the country all summer. The
+boarding-house--it's that--is closed except for the janitor, and he
+doesn't know where she has gone. That's all."
+
+It might be "all," but it made the woodlander's heart sink. Then she
+looked up and saw a vaguely familiar profile, yet she knew nobody, had
+seen nobody at home, and not even on her journey, whom she could
+remember to have been just like this.
+
+It was the face of a young man, who was dressed like all these other
+city men about her, though with a something different and finer in the
+fit and finish of the light gray suit he wore. A slight moustache
+darkened his upper lip, and he fingered this lovingly, as one might a
+new possession. A gray haired lady leaned lightly on his arm and he
+carried her wraps upon his other. Suddenly she spoke to him, as they
+moved outward toward a suburban train, and he smiled down upon her. It
+was the smile that revealed him--Adrian.
+
+"Why, how could I fail to know him! Adrian--then all is right!"
+
+She forgot Joe and all else save that retreating figure which she must
+overtake, and dashed across the room regardless of the people who
+hindered her progress, and among whom she darted with lightning-like
+speed.
+
+"Adrian! Adrian! ADRIAN!"
+
+Their train was late, the lady had been helped to the last platform,
+and the young man sprang after her just as it was moving out. He heard
+his own name and turned, wondering and startled, to see a light-haired
+girl fiercely protesting against a blue-coated official, who firmly
+barred her passage beyond the stile into the dangerous region of a
+hundred moving cars.
+
+"Your ticket, miss! Your train--which is it?"
+
+"Ticket! It's Adrian I want. Adrian, who has just gone on that
+car--oh, so fast, so fast! Adrian!"
+
+"Too bad, miss, and too late. Sorry. The next train out will not be
+many minutes. Likely your friends will wait for you at your station.
+Which is it?"
+
+"My friends? Oh! I don't know. I guess--I guess I haven't any."
+
+She turned away slowly, her heart too heavy for further speech, even
+had there been any speech possible; and there was Joe, the faithful
+and silent, laying his hand on her shoulder and guiding her back to
+their own bench.
+
+"One girl runs away, get lost. Joe go home no more."
+
+"Poor Joe, dear Joe. I had no idea of running away. But I saw
+somebody, that boy who was at the island this summer, and I tried to
+make him see me. Too late, as the man said. He has gone, and now we,
+too, must go somewhere. I'll ask that nice woman. She'll tell us, I
+think," and she again sought the matron.
+
+"Yes. I do know a good place for you, if--they'll take you in. Meaning
+no harm miss, but you see, you aren't fixed just the same, and the
+Indian----"
+
+"Is it a question of clothes? It's not the clothing makes the
+character, my uncle says."
+
+"No, miss, I suppose not. All the same they go a mighty long way
+toward making friends, leastways in this big city. And Indians----"
+
+"Joe Wills is just as noble and as honest as any white man ever
+lived!"
+
+"Maybe so. Indeed, I'm not denying it, but Indians are Indians, and
+some landladies might think of tomahawks."
+
+Margot's laugh rang out and the other smiled in sympathy.
+
+"Joe, Joe! Would you scalp anybody?"
+
+Then, indeed, was the red man's impassivity broken by a grin, which
+happily relieved the situation, fast becoming tragic.
+
+"Well, I'm not wise in city ways but I know that I can find a safe
+shelter somewhere. I'm going to ask that policeman, yonder, to find us
+a place."
+
+"That's sensible, and I'll talk with him myself. If he isn't on duty
+likely he'll take you to my friend's himself. By the way, who was that
+you ran after and called to so loud? You shouldn't do that in a big,
+strange station, you know."
+
+"I suppose not; yet I needed him so, and it was Adrian, who's been at
+my own home all summer. If he'd heard, or seen me, he would have taken
+all the care, because this is where he's always lived. The same
+familiar spot that--that dear Peace Island is to Joe and me," she
+said, with a catch in her voice and laying her hand affectionately
+upon his sleeve.
+
+"Adrian? A Mr. Adrian?"
+
+"Why, no. He is a Wadislaw. His father's name is Malachi Wadislaw, and
+my business here is with him."
+
+"Wadislaw, the banker? Why then, of course, it's all right. Officer,
+please call a cab and take them to Number -- West Twenty-fifth Street.
+That's my friend's; and say I sent them."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+NUMBER 526
+
+
+"Mother, that was Margot!"
+
+Mrs. Wadislaw heard but did not comprehend what Adrian was saying. She
+was flushed and panting from her rush after the retreating train and
+her nerves were excited.
+
+"I'll never, never--run--for any car--in this world, again!" she
+gasped. "It's dangerous, and--so--so uncomfortable. My heart----"
+
+"Poor mother! I'm sorry. I'll get you some water."
+
+The young fellow was excited himself but on quite a different matter;
+yet he knew that nothing could be done for the present and that the
+disturbed lady would take no interest in anything until her own
+agitation was calmed.
+
+"No, no. Don't you leave me. Touch the button. Let the porter
+attend--I--I am so shaken. I'll never, never do it again."
+
+He obeyed her and sat down in the easy-chair beside her. She had been
+compelled to run else they had been left behind, and she had been
+hurried from the platform of that last car through the long train to
+their own reserved seats in the drawing-room car.
+
+"It was foolish; doubly so, because trains are so frequent. There was
+no need for haste, anyway, was there?"
+
+"Only this need: that when anybody accepts a dinner invitation one
+should never keep a hostess waiting."
+
+"But when the hostess is only your own sister, and daughter?"
+
+"One should be most punctilious in one's own family. Oh, yes. It is no
+laughing matter, my son, and since you have come home and regained
+your common sense, you must regard all these seeming trifles. Half the
+disagreements and discomforts of life are due to the fact that even
+well-bred people treat their own households with a rudeness they
+would not dare show strangers. Now that you have given up your
+careless habits I shall take care to remind you of all these details,
+and expect to see you a finished society man within a twelvemonth."
+
+"No, indeed!"
+
+"Adrian! How can you trifle so? Now when you've so lately been
+restored to me?"
+
+"Dearest mother, I am not trifling. I should be, though, if I meant to
+shine nowhere else than at a fashionable dinner-table. There, don't
+look worried. I'll try not to disgrace you, yet---- Well, I've learned
+a higher view of life than that. But can you hear me now? That was
+Margot--woodland Margot--who saved my life!"
+
+"Nonsense. It couldn't be."
+
+"It surely was; and I'm going to ask you to excuse me from this one
+visit so that I can go back and find her."
+
+"Find her? If it were she, and I'm positive you are mistaken, of
+course she is not in the city alone. Her uncle must be with her, and
+your sister will be deeply hurt if you fail her this first time. At a
+dinner, you know, there are a certain and limited number of guests.
+The failure of one leaves his or her partner in an awkward position.
+You must keep your engagement, even if---- But, Adrian?"
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"You must not exaggerate your obligations to those people. They did
+for you only what anybody would do for a man lost in the woods. By
+their own admission you were worth a great deal to that farmer. Else
+he never would have parted with eighty dollars, as he did. I shall
+always prize the gold piece you brought me; indeed, I mean to have
+it set in a pin and wear it. But this Maine farmer, or lumberman,
+or whatever he is, just drop him out of mind. His very name is
+objectionable to me, and you must never mention it before your father.
+Years ago there was a--well, something unpleasant with some people;
+and, please oblige me by--by not being disagreeable now. After all my
+anxiety while you were gone and about your father's health, I think--I
+really----"
+
+Adrian slipped his arm across the back of the lady's chair and smiled
+upon her, lovingly. He was trying his utmost to make up to her and all
+his family for whatever they had suffered because of his former
+"misdeeds." He had come home full of high resolves and had had his
+sincerity immediately tested by his father's demanding that:
+
+"If you are in earnest, if you intend to do a son's part by us, go
+back into the bank and learn a good business. This 'art' you talk
+about, what is it? But the shifty resource of a lot of idle fellows.
+Get down to business. Dollars are what count, in this world. Put
+yourself in a place where you can make them, and while I am alive to
+aid you."
+
+Adrian's whole nature rebelled against this command, yet he had obeyed
+it. And he had inwardly resolved that, outside the duties of his
+clerkship, his time was his own and should be devoted to his beloved
+painting.
+
+"After all, some of the world's finest pictures have been done by
+those whose leisure was scant. If it's in me it will have to come out.
+Some time, in some way, I'll live my own life in spite of all."
+
+It had hurt him, too, a little that his people so discouraged all
+history of his wanderings.
+
+All of his sisters were married and well-connected, and one of them
+voiced the opinion of all, when she said:
+
+"Your running away, or your behaving so that you had to be sent away,
+is quite disgrace enough. That you are back safe, and sensible, is all
+any of us care to know."
+
+But because he was forbidden to talk of his forest experiences he
+dwelt upon them all the more in his own mind; and this afternoon's
+glimpse of Margot's sunny head had awakened all his former interest.
+Why was she in New York? Was the "master" with her? He, of whom
+his own mother spoke in such ignorant contempt, as a "farmer," a
+"lumberman," yet who was the most finished scholar and gentleman that
+Adrian had ever met.
+
+"Well, I can't get home till after that wretched dinner, and I should
+have to wait for the next train, anyway, even if the 'mater' would let
+me off. I've promised myself to make her happy, dear little woman, if
+I can, and sulking over my own disappointments isn't the way to do
+that," he reflected. So he roused himself to talk of other matters,
+and naturally of the sister at whose home they were to dine.
+
+"I don't see what made Kate ever marry a warden of state's prison. I
+should think life in such a place would be hateful."
+
+"That shows how little you know about it, and what a revelation this
+visit will be to you. Why, my dear, she has a beautiful home, with
+horses and carriages at her disposal; her apartments are finely
+furnished and she has one comfort that I have not, or few
+housekeepers in fact."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"As many servants as she requires, and at no expense to herself.
+Servants who are absolutely obedient, thoroughly trained, and never
+'giving notice.'"
+
+"I do not understand."
+
+"They are the convicts. Why, they even have an orchestra to play at
+their entertainments, also of convicts; the musical ones to whom the
+playing is a great reward and treat. I believe they are to play
+to-night."
+
+"Horror! I hope not. I don't want to be served by any poor fellow out
+of a cell."
+
+"You'll not think about that. Not after a little. I don't at all, now,
+though I used to, sometimes, when they were first in office. It's odd
+that though they've lived at Sing Sing for two years you've not been
+there yet."
+
+"Not so odd, little mother. Kate and I never get along together very
+well. She's too dictatorial. Besides, she was always coming home and
+I saw her there. I had no hankering after a prison, myself. And
+speaking of disgrace, I feel that her living in such a place is worse
+than anything I ever did."
+
+"Adrian, for a boy who has ordinary intelligence you do say the
+strangest things. The office of warden is an honorable one and well
+paid."
+
+The lad smiled and his mother hastily added:
+
+"Besides, it gives an opportunity for befriending the unhappy
+prisoners. Why, there is a man----"
+
+She hesitated, looked fixedly at her son as if considering her next
+words, then concluded, rather lamely:
+
+"But you'll see."
+
+She opened her novel and began to read and Adrian also busied himself
+with the evening paper; and presently the station was reached and they
+left the train.
+
+A carriage was in waiting for them, driven by men in livery, and
+altogether quite smart enough to warrant his mother's satisfaction as
+they stepped into it and were whirled away to the prison.
+
+But as he had been forewarned, there was no suggestion of anything
+repulsive in the charming apartments they entered, and his sister's
+greeting was sufficiently affectionate to make him feel that he had
+misjudged her in the past.
+
+All the guests were in dinner dress and Adrian was appointed to take
+in his own mother, Kate having decided that this would be a happy
+surprise to both parties. They had been the last to arrive and as soon
+as greetings were over the meal was immediately served; but on their
+way toward the dining-room, Mrs. Wadislaw pressed her son's arm and
+nodded significantly toward the leader of the palm-hidden orchestra.
+
+"Take a look at that man."
+
+"Yes. Who is he?"
+
+"A convict, life sentence. Number 526. He plays divinely, violin.
+But----"
+
+Again she hesitated and looked sharply into Adrian's face. Should she,
+or should she not, tell him the rest? Yes. She must; it would be the
+surest, shortest way of curing his infatuation for those wood people.
+Her boy had spoken of this Margot as a child, yet with profound love
+and admiration. It would be as well to nip any nonsense of that sort
+in the bud. There was only a moment left, they were already taking
+their places at the elegantly appointed table, and she whispered the
+rest:
+
+"He is in for robbery and manslaughter,--your own father the victim.
+His name is Philip Romeyn, and your woodland nonpareil is his
+daughter."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+FATHER AND SON
+
+
+"Mother!"
+
+Adrian's cry was a gasp. He could not believe that he had heard
+aright; but he felt himself pulled down into his chair and realized
+that though his spiritual world had been turned upside down, as it
+were, this extraordinary dinner must go on. There was only one fact
+for which to rejoice, a trivial one: he had been placed so that he
+could look directly into that palm-decked alcove and upon this
+convict, Number 526.
+
+Convict! Impossible. The fine head was not debased by the
+close-cropped hair, and held itself erect as one upon which no shadow
+of guilt or disgrace had ever rested. The face was noble, despite its
+lines and the prison pallor; and though hard labor had bowed the once
+stalwart shoulders, they neither slouched nor shrunk together as did
+those of the other poor men in that group.
+
+"Adrian! Remember where you are."
+
+Even the bouillon choked him and the fish was as ashes in his mouth.
+Courses came on and were removed, and he tasted each mechanically,
+prodded to this duty by his mother's active elbow. Her tact and
+volubility covered his silence, though there was nobody at that table,
+save herself, who did not mentally set the lad down as an ignorant,
+ill-bred person, oddly unlike the others of his family. Handsome? Oh!
+yes. His appearance was quite correct and even noticeable, but if a
+man were too stupid to open his mouth, save to put food into it, his
+place at a social function were better filled by a plainer and more
+agreeable person.
+
+But all things end, as even that intolerable dinner finally did, and
+Adrian was free to rise and in some quieter place try to rearrange
+his disordered ideas. But he noticed that Kate signaled her mother
+to lead the guests from the room while she, herself, remained to
+exchange a few words with her chief musician. Adrian, also, lingered,
+unreproved, with an intensity of interest which fully redeemed his
+face from that dulness which his sister had previously assigned to it.
+She even smiled upon him, reassuringly:
+
+"You'll get used to society after a bit, brother. You've avoided it so
+much and lived so among those artists that you're somewhat awkward
+yet. But you'll do in time, you'll do very well. I mean to make it a
+point that you shall attend all my little functions."
+
+But Adrian resolved that he would never grace, or disgrace, another in
+this place, though he answered nothing. Then the lady turned to Number
+526, and the boy's eyes fixed themselves upon that worn face, seeking
+resemblances, trying to comprehend that this unhappy fellow was the
+father of his sunny Margot.
+
+Kate was speaking now with an accent intended to be kind, even
+commendatory, but her brother's ear detected, also, its tone of
+condescension. Did the convict notice it, as well? If so, his face
+showed no sign.
+
+"You did well, my man, very well. I think that there might be a bit
+more time allowed for practice, and will speak to the warden about it.
+But you, personally, have a remarkable gift. I hope you will profit by
+it to your soul's good. I shall want you and your men again for a time
+this evening. I have the warden's consent in the matter. A few arias
+and dreamy waltzes, perhaps that sonata which you and 1001 played the
+other day at my reception. Just your violin and the piano. You will
+undertake it? The instruments shall be screened, of course."
+
+Adrian was leaning forward, his hands clenched, his lips parted. His
+gaze became more and more intense. Suddenly the convict raised his own
+eyes and met the youth's squarely, unflinchingly. They were blue eyes,
+pain-dimmed, but courageous. Margot's eyes, in very shape and color,
+as hers might be when life had brought her sorrow. For a half-minute
+the pair regarded one another, moved by an influence the elder man
+could not understand; then Adrian's hand went out invitingly, while he
+said:
+
+"Allow me to thank you for your music. I've never heard a violin speak
+as yours does."
+
+The convict hesitated, glanced at the warden's lady, and replied:
+
+"Probably because no other violin has been to any other man what this
+has been to me."
+
+But he did not take the proffered hand and, with a bow that would have
+graced a drawing-room rather than a cell, clasped his instrument
+closely and quietly moved away.
+
+Kate was inured to prison sights, yet even she was touched by this
+little by-play, though she reproved her too warm-hearted brother.
+
+"Your generosity does you credit, dear, but we never shake the hand
+of a prisoner, except when he is leaving. Not always then."
+
+"Kate, wait a minute. Tell me all about that man. I thought the
+prisoners were kept under lock and key. I thought---- Oh! it's so
+awful, so incredible."
+
+"Why, Adrian! How foolish. Your artistic temperament, I suppose, and
+you cannot help it. No. They are by no means always kept so close.
+This one is a 'trusty.' So were all the orchestra. So are all whom
+you see about the house or grounds. This man is the model for the
+whole prison. He is worth more, in keeping order, than a hundred
+keepers. His influence is something wonderful, and his life is a
+living sermon. His repentance is unmistakably sincere, and his
+conduct will materially shorten his term, yet it will be a dark day
+for the institution when he leaves it. I cannot help but like him and
+trust him; and yet---- Dear, dear! I must not loiter here. I must get
+back to my guests."
+
+"Wait, wait. There's something I want to ask you. To tell you, too. Do
+you know who that man is?"
+
+Kate shivered.
+
+"Do I not? Oh! Adrian, though I have brought myself to look upon him
+so indulgently now, it was not so at first. Then I hated the sight of
+his face, and could scarcely breathe in the room where he was. He is
+under life-sentence for manslaughter and--I wonder if I ought to tell
+you! But I must. The situation is so dramatic, so unprecedented. The
+man whom Number 526 tried to kill, and whom he robbed of many
+thousands, was--our own father!"
+
+He was not even surprised and her astonishing statement fell
+pointless, except that he shivered a little, as she had done, and
+withdrew his hand from her arm, where it had arrested her departure.
+
+"I have heard that already. Mother told me. But I don't believe it.
+That man never, never attempted or committed a crime. If he were
+guilty could he lift his eyes to mine so steadfastly, I, the son of my
+father? There is some horrible, horrible mistake. I don't know what,
+nor how, but there is. And I will find it out, will set it right. I
+must. I shall never know another moment's peace until I do. Those eyes
+of his! Why, sister, do you know that it was little Margot, that man's
+daughter, who saved me from starvation in the forest? Yes, saved my
+life; and whose influence has turned me from an idle, careless lad
+into--a man."
+
+If any of those critical guests could have seen his face at that
+moment they would not have called him stupid; and his excitement
+communicated itself so strongly to his sister, that she passed her
+hands across her brow as if to clear her startled thoughts.
+
+"Impossible. Fifteen years has Number 526 lived a prison life, and if
+there had been any mistake, it would, it must, have been found out
+long ago. Why, the man had friends, rich ones, who spent great sums to
+prove his innocence and failed. The evidence was too strong. If he
+had had his way we two would have long been fatherless."
+
+Kate turned to leave the room but Adrian did not follow her. The place
+had become intolerable to him, yet he blessed the chance which had
+brought him there to see this unhappy fellow-man and to learn this
+amazing story. Now he could not wait to put distance between himself
+and the hateful spot, and to begin the unraveling of what he knew,
+despite all proof, was somebody's terrible blunder.
+
+As cautiously as any convict of them all, escaping from his fetters,
+the lad made his way into the street and thence with all speed to the
+station. He had picked up a hat somewhere, but was still in full
+dress, and more than one glance fell with suspicion upon his heated
+countenance and disordered appearance. However, he was too deep in his
+own thoughts to observe this, and as the train rushed cityward he grew
+more calm and better able to formulate a plan of action.
+
+"I begin to understand. This yearly visit of the 'master' has been to
+Number 526. They were close friends, and brothers by marriage. This
+year he has brought Margot with him. Will he, I wonder, will he let
+her see this convict in stripes? No marvel that my question as to her
+father's burial place was an unanswerable one. Mother desired me not
+to mention the names of my forest friends before my father, but in
+this I must disobey her. I dare not do otherwise. I must get the
+whole, complete, detailed history of this awful affair, and there is
+nobody who could so well remember it as its victim. But I believe
+there were two victims, and one is suffering still. I only hope that
+father's head will not be troubling him. I can't think of him without
+these queer 'spells' yet he has always been capable of transacting
+business, and I must get him to talk, even if it does confuse him. Oh!
+hum! Will we never reach the city! And where is Margot now? If I knew
+I should hurry to see her first; but--what a welcome her uncle would
+give me if I succeeded in clearing her father's name. No wonder he
+disliked me--rather I am astonished that he let me stay at all,
+knowing my name, even if not my parentage. After that, of course, I
+had to go. Yet he was kind and just to the last, despite his personal
+feeling, and this poor Number 526 looks just as noble."
+
+The house on Madison Avenue was dark when Adrian reached it, but he
+knew that his father's private room was at the rear of the building
+and, admitting himself with his latch-key, went directly there.
+
+The banker sat in an attitude familiar to all his family, with his
+hands locked together, his head bent, and his gaze fixed upon vacancy.
+He might have been asleep for all appearances, but when Adrian entered
+and bade "Good-evening, father," he responded promptly enough.
+
+"Good-evening, Adrian. Has your mother come home?"
+
+"No, father. I left--well, I left rather suddenly. In any case, you
+know, she was to stop for the night with Kate. But I came, right after
+dinner, because I want to have a talk with you. Are you equal to it,
+to-night, sir?"
+
+The banker flashed a suspicious glance upward, then relapsed into his
+former pose. Memories of previous disagreeable "talks" with this, his
+only son, arose, but Adrian anticipated his remark.
+
+"Nothing wrong with me, this time, father, I hope. I am trying to
+learn the business and to like it. I----"
+
+"Have you any money, Adrian?"
+
+"A little. What is left of my salary; more than I should have if
+mother hadn't fitted my wardrobe out so well. A clerk even in your
+bank doesn't earn a princely sum, you remember; not at first."
+
+It was a well-known fact, upon the "street," that the employees of
+"Wadislaw's" received almost niggardly payment. Wadislaw, himself had
+the reputation of penuriousness, and that his family had lived in the
+style they had was because Mrs. Wadislaw's personal income paid
+expenses.
+
+"Put it away. Put it away where nobody can find it. There are more
+robbers than honest men in the country. Once I was robbed, myself. Of
+an enormous sum. I have never recovered from that set-back. We should
+not have gotten on at all but for your mother. Your mother is a very
+good woman, Adrian."
+
+"Why, yes, father. Of course. The very best in the world, I believe.
+She has only one fault, she will make me go into society, and I
+dislike it. Otherwise, she's simply perfect."
+
+"Yes, yes. But she watches me too closely, boy. Don't let your wife be
+a spy upon you, lad."
+
+"No, I won't," laughed he. "But speaking of robberies, I wish you
+would tell me about that great one which happened to you. It was when
+I was too young to know anything about it. I have a particular reason
+for asking. If you are able, that is."
+
+"Why shouldn't I be able? It is never out of my mind, night nor day.
+There was always a mystery in it. Yet I would have trusted him as I
+trusted myself. More than I would dare trust anybody now, even you, my
+son."
+
+The man was thoroughly aroused, at last. Adrian began to question if
+he had done right in saying what would move him so, knowing that all
+excitement was apt to be followed by a "spell," during which he acted
+like a man in a dream, though never sleeping.
+
+But he resumed the conversation, voluntarily, and Adrian listened
+intently.
+
+"He was a poor boy from a country farm. Your mother and the girls,
+were boarding at his home. I went up for Sundays, for I liked his
+horses. I never felt I could afford to own one---- Don't buy a horse,
+Adrian!"
+
+"No, father. Not yet. I'm rather more anxious to buy a certain moose I
+know and present it to the city Zoo. King Madoc. You remember I told
+you about the trained animal, who would swim and tow a boat, and could
+be harnessed to draw a sleigh?"
+
+"Umm. Indeed? Remarkable. Quite remarkable. But I wouldn't do it, boy.
+The gift would not be appreciated. Nobody ever does appreciate
+anything. It is a selfish world. A selfish world, and an ungrateful
+one."
+
+"Not wholly, father, I hope."
+
+"We were talking. What about? I--my memory--so much care, and the
+difficulty of keeping secrets. It's hard to keep everything to one's
+self when a man grows old, Adrian."
+
+"Yes, father dear. But I'm at home now to stay. You must trust me more
+and rely upon me. Believe me, I will deserve your confidence. But it
+was the boy from the farm you were telling me of, and the horses."
+
+In all his life Adrian had never drawn so near his father's real self
+as he was drawing then. He rejoiced in this fact as a part of the
+reward of his more filial behavior. He meant wholly what he had just
+promised, but he was still most anxious to hear this old story from
+this participant's own lips, while they were together, undisturbed.
+
+"Yes, yes. Well, I thought I could drive a pair of colts as well as
+any jockey, though I knew no more about driving than any other city
+business man. Of course, they ran away, and I should have been killed,
+but that little shaver---- Why, Adrian, that little shaver just sprung
+on the back of one, from where he'd been beside me in the wagon, and
+he held and pulled and wouldn't let go till they'd quieted down, and
+then he was thrown off and nearly trampled to death. I wasn't hurt a
+bit, not a single bit. You'd think I'd befriend such a brave,
+unselfish little chap as that, wouldn't you, lad?"
+
+In the interest of his recital Mr. Wadislaw had risen and paced the
+floor, but he now sat down again, flushed and a bit confused.
+
+"What did you do for him, father?"
+
+"Hmm. What? Oh! yes. Found out he wanted to come to New York and put
+him to school. Made a man of him. Gave him a place in the bank.
+Promoted him, promoted him, promoted him. Till he got almost as high
+as I was myself. Trusted him with everything even more than myself for
+he never forgot. It would have been better if he had."
+
+A long silence that seemed intolerable to Adrian's impatience.
+
+"Then, father, what next?"
+
+"How curious you are! Well, what could be next? except that I went one
+night--or day--I don't remember--he went---- The facts were all
+against him. There was no hope for him from the beginning. If I had
+died, he would have hanged, that boy--that little handsome shaver who
+saved my life. But I didn't die, and he only tried to kill me. They
+found him at the safe--we two, only, knew the lock--and the iron bar
+in his hand. He protested, of course. They always do. His wife
+came---- Oh! Adrian, I shall never forget her face. She was a
+beautiful woman, with such curious, wonderful hair, and she had a
+little baby in her arms, while she pleaded that I would not prosecute.
+The baby laughed, but what could I do? The law must take its course.
+The money was gone and my life almost. There was no hope for him from
+the beginning, though he never owned his guilt. But I didn't die,
+and--Adrian, why have you asked me all this to-night? I am so tired. I
+often am so tired."
+
+The lad rose and stood beside his father's chair, laying his arm
+affectionately around the trembling shoulders, as any daughter might
+have done, as none of this stern father's daughters dared to do.
+
+"I have asked you, father, and pained you because it was right. I had
+to ask. To-day I have seen this 'little shaver,' a convict in his
+prison. I have looked into a face that is still noble and undaunted,
+even after all these years of suffering and shame. I have heard of a
+life that is as helpful behind prison bars as the most devoted
+minister's outside them. And I know that he is innocent. He never
+harmed you or meant to. I am as sure of this as that I stand here, and
+it is my life's task to undo this wrong that has been done. You would
+be glad to see him righted, would you not, father? After all this
+weary time?"
+
+"I--I--don't--I am ill, Adrian, I---- Take care! The money, the bonds!
+My head, Adrian, my head!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+A HIDDEN SAFE DEPOSIT
+
+
+Upon reaching the New York railway station, Adrian had stopped long
+enough to send his mother an explanatory telegram, so that she might
+not worry over his sudden disappearance. He had also urged her in it,
+to "make a good visit, since he would be at home to look after his
+father."
+
+In this new consideration for the feelings of others he was now
+thankful that Mrs. Wadislaw was away. "She gets so anxious and
+frightened over father's 'spells,' though he always comes out of them
+well," he reflected; then did what he remembered to have seen her do
+on similar occasions. He helped his father to the lounge, loosened his
+collar, bathed his head, and administered a few drops of a restorative
+kept near at hand.
+
+In a few moments the banker sat up again and remarked:
+
+"It is queer that no doctor can stop these attacks. I never quite lose
+consciousness, or rather I seem to be somebody else. I have an impulse
+to do things I would not do at other times--yet what these things are
+I do not clearly remember when the attack passes. But I always feel
+better for some days after them. For that reason I do not dread them
+as I would, otherwise. Strange, that a man has to lose his senses in
+order to regain them! A paradox, but a fact."
+
+"Do you have them as often as formerly?"
+
+"Oftener, I think. They are irregular. I may feel one coming on again
+within a few hours or it may not be for weeks. The trouble is that I
+may be stricken some time more severely and fall senseless in some
+unsafe place."
+
+"Don't fear about that, father. I am at home again, you know, and
+shall keep you well in sight. If you would only give up business and
+go away to Europe, or somewhere. Take a long rest. You might recover
+entirely then and enjoy a ripe old age."
+
+"I can't afford it, lad. If those stolen bonds--but what's the use of
+recalling them? Your talk has brought my loss so freshly before me. I
+wish you hadn't asked me about it. However, it's done, and it's late.
+Let's get to bed. I must be early at the bank, to-morrow. The builders
+are coming to look things over and estimate on the cost of safe
+deposit vaults in the basement. Ours is one of the oldest buildings in
+the city and every inch of space has increased in value since it was
+put up. The waste room of that basement should bring us in a princely
+income, if the inspector will give the permit to construct the vaults.
+My head must be clear in the morning, if ever, and I must rest now.
+Good-night."
+
+Adrian saw his father to his room and sought his own, resolving to be
+present at the next day's interview with the builders, and to give
+the banker his own most watchful care. But his thoughts soon returned
+to the startling knowledge he had gained concerning Margot's history,
+and when he fell asleep, at last, it was to dream of a prison on an
+island, of his mother in a cell, and other most distressing scenes. So
+that he awoke unrefreshed, and in greater perplexity than ever as to
+how he could find Margot or be of any help to Number 526.
+
+But Mr. Wadislaw seemed brighter than usual, and was almost jovial in
+his discussion of the proposed alterations of his property.
+
+"You will be a rich man, Adrian, a very rich man, as I figure it.
+Money is the main thing. Get money and--and--keep it;" he added with a
+cautious glance around the breakfast room.
+
+But there was nobody except the old butler to hear this worldly advice
+and he had always been hearing it. Adrian, to whom it was given, heard
+it not at all. He was thinking of his island friends and wondering how
+he should find them. However, when they reached the bank, he rallied
+his wandering thoughts and gave strict attention to the talk between
+the banker and the builders, trying to impress upon his mind the dry
+facts and figures which meant so much to them.
+
+"You say that this wall will have to be torn down. To reach bottom
+rock. Why, sir, that wall has stood--Adrian, what is that racket in
+the outer office? Stop it. The porter should not allow---- But, sir,
+that wall is as thick as the safe built into it. I mean----"
+
+Mr. Wadislaw passed his hand across his forehead and Adrian, seeing
+this familiar sign of impending trouble, felt that his place was at
+his father's side rather than in quelling that slight disturbance in
+the adjoining room. He took his stand behind the banker's chair and
+rested his hand upon it.
+
+Mr. Wadislaw cast a hurried, appealing glance upward, and the son
+smiled and nodded. The contractor moved about the place, tapping the
+walls, the floor, and the great chimney beside the safe; pausing at
+this spot and listening, tapping afresh, listening again, with a
+marked interest growing in his face.
+
+But nobody noticed this, for, suddenly, the door slid open and there
+stood in the aperture a girl with wonderful, flowing hair and a face
+strangely stern and defiant.
+
+"Margot!"
+
+But it was not at Adrian she looked. At last she was in the presence
+of the man who had ruined her father. And--he knew her! Aye, knew her,
+though they two had never met before and, as yet, she had spoken no
+accusing word. For he had sunk back in his seat, his face white, his
+eyes staring, his jaw dropped. To him she was an apparition, one risen
+from the dead to confront him with the darkest hour of all his past,
+when a broken-hearted wife had kneeled to him, begging her husband's
+life. Yet it was broad daylight and he wide awake.
+
+"Are you Malachi Wadislaw?"
+
+"I--I--thought you were dead!"
+
+"No, not dead. Alive and come at last to make you right the wrong you
+did my father. To make you open his prison doors and set him free."
+
+"Are you Philip Romeyn's wife? Her hair--his eyes--I--I--am
+confused--Adrian!"
+
+"Yes, father. I am here. Margot!"
+
+Her glance passed from the father to the son but there was no
+relenting kindness in it. When the young suffer it is profoundly, and
+the inmost depths of Margot's nature were stirred by this first sight
+of her father's enemy.
+
+"Philip Romeyn's wife lies in the grave, whither your persecution sent
+her. I am her daughter and his, come to make you do a tardy justice.
+To make you lead me to the place where you have hidden the bonds, the
+gold, you said he stole! For if stealing was done it was by your own
+hands, not his."
+
+"Margot--MARGOT! This is my father!" cried Adrian, aghast.
+
+"Yes, Adrian, and my father--my father--wears a convict's garb this
+day because of yours!"
+
+"No, no! No, no. I tried to save him, but he would not save himself! I
+begged him, almost on my knees I begged him, the little shaver, to
+confess and get the benefit of that. But he would not. There was no
+hope for him from the beginning. None. They found me all but dead. The
+money gone. He by me, the steel rod in his hand with which we used to
+fasten the--that very safe. I---- Why, I can see it all as if it were
+to-day, even though they lifted me for dead, and found him standing,
+dazed and speechless. When they questioned him about the money he
+said: 'Ask Malachi Wadislaw. I never touched it.' That was all. But
+they proved it against him. I was dead--almost--and I was beggared.
+Beggared!" his voice rose to a scream, "by that brave little shaver
+who had once--once saved my life. Robbed and murdered--his benefactor,
+who had made him rich and prosperous. Should he not suffer? Aye,
+forever!"
+
+The silence that followed this speech was intense. The builder ceased
+his inquisitive tapping and listened spellbound. Old Joe stood rigidly
+behind the girl whom he had followed. Adrian scarcely breathed.
+Accused and accuser faced one another, motionless.
+
+Then: "Where--was--it?" demanded Margot. "Show me--the place."
+
+"Here. Here, in this very sanctum to which nobody had the entrance but
+us two. There--is the monster safe that was robbed. With such another
+rod of steel"--he pointed to a bar resting above the safe--"was I
+struck--here." His hand touched for an instant a deep scar on his
+temple and an involuntary shudder passed over the girl's frame.
+
+But her face did not change nor the defiance of her eyes grow less.
+She moved a step forward, and, as if to make way for her, the builder,
+also, stepped aside. As he did so his hammer caught upon the little
+ledge of the chimney projection which he had been testing and whose
+hollow sound had aroused his curiosity. The small slab of marble
+slipped and fell, though it had seemingly been securely plastered in
+the wall. It left an aperture of a few inches, and the contractor
+ejaculated:
+
+"Pshaw! That's queer. Must have been loose, I never saw just such a
+hole in such a place. I'm sorry, sir, yet----" He turned to address
+the banker but paused, amazed. What had he done?
+
+The effect of that trivial accident upon the owner of the building was
+marvelous. He sprang to his feet, clasped his head with his hands, and
+gazed upon that tiny opening with the fascination of horror. For a
+moment it seemed as if his staring eyes would start from their sockets
+and he gasped in his effort to breathe.
+
+"Father! What is it? What ails you?"
+
+But the distraught man tossed off his son's arm like one who needed
+no support, and to whom each second of delay was unendurable.
+
+"Look, look! What they told me--I believed--look, look!" then he
+swayed and Adrian caught him.
+
+But Margot's anxious love leaped to a swift comprehension of what
+merely amazed the others.
+
+"That hole! The bonds--the bonds are in that hole! That's what he
+means. Look, look!"
+
+Incredulous, but impelled by her insistence, the builder peered into
+the opening. It was too small to admit his head and his gaze could
+pass no further than its opposite side.
+
+"There's nothing there, miss, but a hole, as he said."
+
+She tossed him aside, not noticing, and thrust her arm down as far as
+it would reach.
+
+"A stick, a string, something--quick! It is deep."
+
+Nobody moved, till she turned upon the Indian.
+
+"For the master, Joe! a string and a weight. Quick, quick!"
+
+The empty-handed son of the forest was the man who filled her need. A
+new, well-leaded fishing line that had caught his fancy, passing down
+the street, came from his pocket. She seized, uncoiled, and dropped it
+down the hole.
+
+"Oh! it is so deep. But we must get to the bottom. We must, even if I
+tear that wall down with my own hands. You'll help me, Joe, dear Joe,
+won't you? For the master?"
+
+He moved forward, instantly, but Adrian interposed. He was colorless
+with excitement yet his voice had the ring of hope and expectation, as
+he bent and looked into Malachi Wadislaw's eyes.
+
+"Is she right, father? Do you hear me? Is there anything in that small
+place?"
+
+"I remember--I remember. The bonds. The bonds are safe. Always--always
+keep your money in a hidden----"
+
+"God forbid!" groaned the lad. Then to the builder, "Get your men.
+Tear down that wall. Quick. A man's life is at stake, or more than
+life--his honor."
+
+The contractor hesitated, then remarked:
+
+"Well, it won't weaken the building, as I see; and we had decided on
+the work. It would have to come down anyway."
+
+He stepped to the street and summoned a waiting workman. They were
+skilled and labored rapidly, with little scattering of dust or mortar,
+though Margot would not move aside even from that, but gave them room
+for working only, standing with gaze riveted on that deepening shaft.
+A mere shell of single bricks, plastered and painted as the remaining
+wall, had hidden it; and its depth was little below the thick-beamed
+floor.
+
+At last the workman stood up.
+
+"I think I see the bottom, sir, and there seems to be stuff in it.
+Would you like to feel, young man?"
+
+"No, no! I! It is I--to me the right--to find them!" cried Margot,
+flinging herself between, and downward on the floor.
+
+[Illustration: SHE STOOPED AND FLUNG THEM OUT]
+
+"But, Margot, little girl, don't be so sure. It's scarcely
+probable----" began Adrian, compassionately, shrinking from sight of
+her bitter disappointment, should disappointment come. Alas! it would
+be almost as great to him, and whether a glad or sorry one he could
+not yet realize.
+
+"His face! Look at your father's face. That tells the story. The bonds
+are there, and 'tis Philip Romeyn's daughter shall bring them to the
+light."
+
+Indeed, the banker's expression confirmed her faith. Its frenzied
+eagerness had given place to a satisfied expectation, and a normal
+color tinged his cheeks. But he still watched intently, saying
+nothing.
+
+"Catch them, Adrian, catch them! But hold them fast, the horrible,
+accursed things!"
+
+One after one, stooping, the exultant daughter lifted and flung them
+out. The folded papers seemingly so worthless but of such value;
+the little canvas bags of gold; the precious documents and vouchers,
+hidden from all other men by one unhappy man, in his miserly
+aberration. The price of fifteen years of agony and shame. Now,
+fifteen years to be forgotten, and honor restored.
+
+In that far past Philip Romeyn's story had been simple and it had been
+true. He had been unaccountably anxious and had risen in the night and
+gone to the bank. He believed that the safe had not been locked,
+though he had been assured it should be by Mr. Wadislaw, the only
+other person who had a key to it. To his surprise he had found the
+banker in his office, but in dire mishap. He was lying on the floor,
+unconscious, bleeding from a wound upon his temple. The safe was open,
+empty. The steel bar which, at night, was padlocked upon it for extra
+security lay on the floor, beside the senseless man. Mr. Romeyn had
+picked this up and was standing with it in his hand, horrified and
+half-stupefied by the shocking affair, when the watchman, discovering
+light and noise, had entered and found them. It was his hasty,
+accusing voice which started the cry of robbery and murder; and the
+circumstances had seemed so aggravated, the circumstantial evidence so
+strong, that the judge had imposed the heaviest penalty within his
+power. The hypothesis that Mr. Wadislaw had himself put the contents
+of the safe away, had even perverted them to his own use; and that he
+had injured himself by falling against the sharp corner of the safe's
+heavy and open door, had been set aside as too trivial for
+consideration.
+
+The hypothesis had been correct, the circumstantial evidence
+incorrect; yet in the name of justice, the latter had prevailed.
+
+"Count them! have you counted them, Adrian?"
+
+"Yes, Margot. It is all here. The very sum of which I have so often
+heard. Thank God, that it is found!"
+
+"My father! Come, Joe, we're going to my father."
+
+"And I go with you. In my father's name and to begin his lifelong
+reparation."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+THE MELODY AND MYSTERY OF LIFE
+
+
+Swift the way and joyous now, that same road over which Adrian had
+journeyed on the day before, so grudgingly. Yet not half swift enough
+that through express by which they left the city limits for the little
+town of Sing Sing, or as would have better suited Indian Joe, of
+Ossining. Scene of so many tragedies and broken hearts; to be, to-day,
+a scene of unutterable gladness.
+
+Margot's eyes were on the flying landscape, counting the lessening
+landmarks as one counts off the stitches of a tedious seam, and with
+each mile of progress her impatience growing.
+
+"Oh! Adrian! shall we never be there! I can hardly breathe. My heart
+beats so--I cannot wait, I cannot!"
+
+In the seat behind them Joe still carefully held the old-fashioned
+shawl and bonnet, which Angelique had decided her young traveler
+should--but never would--wear. Her hair was out of that decorous plait
+which had been commanded, and there had been neither time nor friend
+to substitute new clothes for old. Therefore, it was just as she
+looked in the woodland that Margot looked now when she was first to
+meet her father's eyes; and neither she, nor even Adrian, cared one
+whit for the curious glances which scrutinized her unusual,
+comfortable attire.
+
+What were clothes? Money could soon buy those, if they were needed,
+and there would be money abundant, Adrian thought, fingering the
+"specimens" which the girl desired old Joseph to produce from that
+wonderful pocket of his, which held so few, yet just the very things
+that were important.
+
+"Copper, Margot. I'm sure of it. I have a friend, a man who deals in
+mining stocks, and I've seen samples at his office which do not look
+as pure to me as this."
+
+"These pieces came from the deep cave under the island. Where I was
+that day during the great storm, the day you came to us. I don't see
+why there shouldn't be plenty of the metal there, for we're in nearly
+the same latitude as the copper regions of the great lakes. I hope we
+may find it in large enough quantities to pay for getting it out."
+
+Adrian was surprised and not wholly pleased by what seemed a mercenary
+taint upon her fine character, but was ashamed of his momentary
+misjudgment when she added:
+
+"Because, you see, we've suffered so much for money's sake that we
+want to use it ourselves to make other people happy. I know what I
+will do with it, if I ever have much, or even little."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"I will use it to defend the wrongfully imprisoned. To help the poor
+men when they come out, even if they have been wicked once. To
+comfort the families of those who suffer disgrace and poverty. To
+forward justice--justice. Oh! Adrian, how far now?"
+
+"Fifteen minutes, now. Only fifteen minutes!"
+
+"They will never pass! They are longer than the fifteen years of my
+ignorance, when I didn't know I had a father. My father. My father."
+
+Over and over, she said the words softly, caressingly, as if she could
+never have enough of all they meant to her; and the listening lad
+asked once, a trifle warningly:
+
+"Are you not at all afraid, Margot, that this unknown father will be
+different from your anticipations? Remember, though so close of kin,
+you are still strangers."
+
+"Why, Adrian! My mother loved him and my uncle. I love him, too,
+unknowing; but I tell you now, this minute, if I found him all that
+was bad and repulsive, I should still love him and all the more. So
+love him that he would grow good again and forget all the evil he
+must have seen in that evil place. For he is my father, my father."
+
+"Have no fear, I only meant to try you. He is all that you dream and
+more. He has the noblest face I ever looked on; yes, not even
+excepting your uncle's."
+
+"What? you--have seen him?"
+
+"Yes. Yesterday;" at which she sat in silent wonder till he said: "Now
+come. We're there!"
+
+When they stepped out at the final station Adrian called for the
+swiftest horses waiting possible fares, and burst in upon his sister's
+presence with the demand, almost breathlessly spoken:
+
+"Number 526, at once, Kate. This is Margot---- Ah! mother! Margot! The
+money's found--Number 526--quick!"
+
+The excitement was all his by then. The girl to whom this moment was
+so much more eventful stood pale and quiet, with a luminous joy in her
+blue eyes that was more pathetic than tears.
+
+"Adrian, are you crazy? Upon my word, I almost believe you are!
+Running away as you did last night and coming back again to-day, in
+this wild fashion. What do you mean? Who is this--this young person?
+And what in the world do you, can you, possibly, want of Number 526?"
+
+He paid no attention to her many questions, nor even to his mother who
+clutched his arm in extreme agitation. He had caught the tones of a
+violin played softly, tenderly, and oh! so sadly.
+
+"Yes, that's Number 526, since you wish to see him, though it's quite
+against the rules and--he's practicing with his men----"
+
+"Come, Margot. Come."
+
+The player was in the little alcove behind the screen and palms, and
+did not even look up as the two entered his presence, for his own soul
+had floated far away from that dread place, on the strains of that
+music which no prison bars could confine.
+
+"Father!"
+
+[Illustration: "MY FATHER! I HAVE COME"]
+
+The music ceased, but only for an instant. Once the player had heard a
+voice like that--clear, sweet, exquisitely modulated. The voice of the
+wife he had loved, silent in death these many years. But the tone had
+been sufficient to stir his soul to even deeper harmonies: and he
+stood there forgetful of his shaven head, his prison stripes, once
+more a man among men.
+
+"Father! My father! I have come! Margot, baby Margot! Come to set you
+free!"
+
+Her arms were about his neck, her wet face pressed close to his, her
+tender kisses poured upon his lips, his dazed, unseeing eyes, his
+trembling shoulders.
+
+Then he put out his hand and held her from him, that he might the
+better see her fairness, hear her marvelous story--told in few words,
+and comprehend what was the merciful, the Heaven-sent bliss that had
+come to him.
+
+"Cecily! Margot! My daughter with her mother's face! Free! Free! Oh!
+God, support me!"
+
+The indomitable courage which suffering had had no power to weaken
+failed in this supreme moment; and as, in his hours of darkness, he
+had clung to his music for sustenance so he turned to it now. He
+pressed his violin to his shoulder, leaned his cheek upon it, and from
+its quivering strings drew out in melody the story of his fifteen
+years. All the bitterness, the sadness, the sweetness; and that
+exalted faith which had made the mystery of his life, and his shame,
+almost divine.
+
+Blinded by their own tears, one by one, the others left them, and when
+the last strain ended in a burst of joyous victory, there were but two
+to hear it--parent and child.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Adrian watched the train that bore them homeward roll away, with a
+heart both heavy and glad. In fancy he could see them reach that
+journey's end; with brother clasping the hand of brother, the silent,
+wonderful forest receiving them into its restful solitude. He could
+see that great room which had waited for its occupant so many years,
+and which was now all aglow from its flame-filled fireplace, and
+redolent with wild flowers. He could see the wide couch drawn up
+before the hearth and a toil-worn man, who had not rested before in
+fifteen years, lying there with grateful, adoring eyes fixed upon that
+pictured Face of The Man of Sorrows.
+
+There was a girl in the room, moving everywhere in needless, tender
+care that nothing should be wanting. As if anything ever could be
+wanting where Margot was! The innocent, great-hearted child of nature,
+whose love no obstacle could overcome, and who hesitated at no danger
+for love's sweet sake.
+
+
+
+
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+_STORIES FOR GIRLS_
+
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+_Earning Her Way_
+
+_By Mrs. Clarke Johnson Illustrated by Ida Waugh_
+
+
+A charming story of an ambitious girl who overcomes in a most original
+manner, many obstacles that stand in the way of securing a college
+course. While many of her experiences are of a practical nature and
+show a brave, self-reliant spirit, some of her escapades and
+adventures are most exciting, yet surrounding the whole there is an
+atmosphere of refinement and inspiration that is most helpful and
+pleasing.
+
+
+_Her College Days_
+
+_By Mrs. Clarke Johnson Illustrated by Ida Waugh_
+
+This is a most interesting and healthful tale of a girl's life in a
+New England college. The trustful and unbounded love of the heroine
+for her mother and the mutual and self-sacrificing devotion of the
+mother to the daughter are so beautifully interwoven with the varied
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+
+
+_Two Wyoming Girls_
+
+_By Mrs. Carrie L. Marshall Illustrated by Ida Waugh_
+
+Two girls, thrown upon their own resources, are obliged to "prove up"
+their homestead claim. This would be no very serious matter were it
+not for the persecution of an unscrupulous neighbor, who wishes to
+appropriate the property to his own use. The girls endure many
+privations, have a number of thrilling adventures, but finally secure
+their claim and are generally well rewarded for their courage and
+perseverance.
+
+
+_The Girl Ranchers_
+
+_By Mrs. Carrie L. Marshal Illustrated by Ida Waugh_
+
+A story of life on a sheep ranch in Montana. The dangers and
+difficulties incident to such a life are vividly pictured, and the
+interest in the story is enhanced by the fact that the ranch is
+managed almost entirely by two young girls. By their energy and pluck,
+coupled with courage, kindness, and unselfishness they succeed in
+disarming the animosity of the neighboring cattle ranchers, and their
+enterprise eventually results successfully.
+
+
+_A Maid at King Alfred's Court_
+
+_By Lucy Foster Madison Illustrated by Ida Waugh_
+
+This is a strong and well told tale of the 9th century. It is a
+faithful portrayal of the times, and is replete with historical
+information. The trying experiences through which the little heroine
+passes, until she finally becomes one of the great Alfred's family,
+are most entertainingly set forth. Nothing short of a careful study of
+the history of the period will give so clear a knowledge of this
+little known age as the reading of this book.
+
+
+_A Maid of the First Century_
+
+_By Lucy Foster Madison Illustrated by Ida Waugh_
+
+A little maid of Palestine goes in search of her father, who for
+political reasons, has been taken as a slave to Rome. She is
+shipwrecked in the Mediterranean, but is rescued by a passing vessel
+bound for Britain. Eventually an opportunity is afforded her for going
+to Rome, where, after many trying and exciting experiences, she and
+her father are united and his liberty is restored to him.
+
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors;
+otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the
+author's words and intent.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST***
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+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Daughter of the Forest, by Evelyn Raymond</title>
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+<body>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Daughter of the Forest, by Evelyn Raymond,
+Illustrated by Ida Waugh</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: A Daughter of the Forest</p>
+<p>Author: Evelyn Raymond</p>
+<p>Release Date: March 15, 2010  [eBook #31655]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h4>E-text prepared by D Alexander<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net/c/">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br />
+    from page images generously made available by<br />
+    Internet Archive<br />
+    (<a href="http://www.archive.org/">http://www.archive.org</a>)</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;" cellpadding="10">
+  <tr>
+    <td valign="top">
+      Note:
+    </td>
+    <td>
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive. See
+      <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/daughterofforest00raymrich">
+      http://www.archive.org/details/daughterofforest00raymrich</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 326px;">
+<img src="images/icover.jpg" width="326" height="500" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+
+<div class="centerbox bbox">
+
+<p class="tinygap">&#160;</p>
+
+<h1>A DAUGHTER</h1>
+
+<h1>OF THE FOREST</h1>
+
+<p class="illgap">&#160;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>By</i> EVELYN<br />
+RAYMOND</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Author of</i><br />
+&#8220;A Yankee Girl&#8221; etc.</p>
+
+<p class="biggap">&#160;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Illustrated by</i><br />
+IDA WAUGH</p>
+
+<p class="illgap">&#160;</p>
+
+<h3><i>The Penn Publishing Company</i></h3>
+
+<h3>PHILADELPHIA MCMII</h3></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+
+<hr class="tiny" />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright 1902 by The Penn Publishing Company</span></p>
+
+<hr class="tiny" />
+
+<p class="center">Published August 15, 1902</p>
+
+<hr class="tiny" />
+
+<p class="right"><small>A Daughter of the Forest</small></p>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 361px;">
+<img src="images/i003.jpg" class="jpg" width="361" height="500" alt="THE GIRL KNELT, INDIAN FASHION" title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE GIRL KNELT, INDIAN FASHION</span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<h2>Contents</h2>
+<div class="centered">
+<table border="0" width="70%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="4" summary="CONTENTS">
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right"><small>CHAPTER</small></td>
+<td align="left">&#160;</td>
+<td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">I</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Storm</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">II</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Spirit or Mortal</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">III</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">An Estray From Civilization</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">IV</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">What Was in the Name</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">V</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">In Aladdin Land</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">VI</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A One-sided Story</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">VII</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Woodland Menagerie</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">VIII</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">King Madoc</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">IX</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Perplexities</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">X</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Departure</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XI</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Disclosure</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XII</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Carrying</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XIII</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Dead Water Tragedy</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XIV</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Shooting the Rapids</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XV</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Science and Superstition</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XVI</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Diverging Roads</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XVII</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">In the Hour of Darkness</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_201">201</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XVIII</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Letter</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XIX</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Question of Apparel</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XX</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Coming and Going</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_241">241</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXI</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">In the Great Railway Station</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_259">259</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXII</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Number 526</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_272">272</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXIII</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">Father and Son</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXIV</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Hidden Safe Deposit</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right">XXV</td>
+<td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Melody and Mystery of Life</span></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#Page_319">319</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+<h1><a name="A_Daughter_of_the_Forest" id="A_Daughter_of_the_Forest"></a>A Daughter of the Forest</h1>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>THE STORM</h3>
+
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">Margot</span>! Margot!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mother Angelique&#8217;s anxious call rang out over the water, once, twice,
+many times. But, though she shaded her brows with her hands and
+strained her keen ears to listen, there was no one visible and no
+response came back to her. So she climbed the hill again and,
+re&euml;ntering the cabin, began to stir with almost vicious energy the
+contents of a pot swinging in the wide fireplace. As she toiled she
+muttered and wagged her gray head with sage misgivings.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;For my soul! There is the ver&#8217; bad hoorican&#8217; a-comin&#8217;, and the child
+so heedless. But the signs, the omens! This same <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>day I did fall
+asleep at the knitting and waked a-smother. True, &#8217;twas Meroude, the
+cat, crouched on my breast; yet what sent her save for a warning?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Though even in her scolding the woman smiled, recalling how Margot had
+jeered at her superstition; and that when she had dropped her bit of
+looking-glass the girl had merrily congratulated her on the fact;
+since by so doing she had secured &#8220;two mirrors in which to behold such
+loveliness!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, no, not so. Death lurks in a broken glass; or, at the best, must
+follow seven full years of bad luck and sorrow.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>On which had come the instant reproof:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Silly Angelique! When there is no such thing as luck but all is of
+the will of God.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The old nurse had frowned. The maid was too wise for her years. She
+talked too much with the master. It was not good for womenkind to
+listen to grave speech or plague their heads with graver books. Books,
+indeed, were for priests and doctors; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>and, maybe, now and then, for
+men who could not live without them, like Master Hugh. She, Angelique,
+had never read a book in all her life. She never meant to do so. She
+had not even learned a single letter printed in their foolish pages.
+Not she. Yet was not she a most excellent cook and seamstress? Was
+there any cabin in all that northland as tidy as that she ruled?
+Would matters have been the better had she bothered her poor brain
+with books? She knew her duty and she did it. What more could mortal?</p>
+
+<p>This argument had been early in the day. A day on which the master had
+gone away to the mainland and the house-mistress had improved by
+giving the house an extra cleaning. To escape the soapsuds and the
+loneliness, Margot had, also, gone, alone and unquestioned; taking
+with her a luncheon of brown bread and cold fowl, her book and
+microscope. Angelique had watched the little canoe push off from
+shore, without regret, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>since now she could work unhindered at
+clearing the room of the &#8220;rubbishy specimen&#8221; which the others had
+brought in to mess the place.</p>
+
+<p>Now, at supper time, perfect order reigned, and perfect quiet, as
+well; save for the purring of Meroude upon the hearth and the
+simmering of the kettle. Angelique wiped her face with her apron.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The great heat! and May but young yet. It means trouble. I <span style="white-space: nowrap;">wish&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, the cat waked from her sleep and with a sharp meouw leaped
+to her mistress&#8217; shoulder; who screamed, dropped the ladle, splashed
+the stew, and boxed the animal&#8217;s ears&mdash;all within a few seconds. Her
+nerves were already tingling from the electricity in the air, and her
+anxiety returned with such force that, again swinging the crane around
+away from the fire, she hurried to the beach.</p>
+
+<p>To one so weatherwise the unusual heat, the leaden sky, and the
+intense hush were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>ominous. There was not a breath of wind stirring,
+apparently, yet the surface of the lake was already dotted by tiny
+white-caps, racing and chasing shoreward, like live creatures at play.
+Not many times, even in her long life in that solitude, had Angelique
+Ricord seen just that curious coloring of cloud and water, and she
+recalled these with a shudder. The child she loved was strong and
+skilful, but what would that avail? Her thin face darkened, its
+features sharpened, and making a trumpet of her hands, she put all her
+force into a long, terrified halloo.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah-ho-a-ah! Margot&mdash;Mar-g-o-t&mdash;<span class="smcap">Margot</span>!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Something clutched her shoulder and with another frightened scream the
+woman turned to confront her master.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is the child away?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes. I know not where.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Since when?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It seems but an hour, maybe two, three, and she was here, laughing,
+singing, all as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>ever. Though it was before the midday, and she went
+in her canoe, still singing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Which way?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She pointed due east, but now into a gloom that was impenetrable. On
+the instant, the lapping wavelets became breakers, the wind rose to a
+deafening shriek, throwing Angelique to the ground and causing even
+the strong man to reel before it. As soon as he could right himself he
+lifted her in his arms and staggered up the slope. Rather, he was
+almost blown up it and through the open door into the cabin, about
+which its furnishings were flying wildly. Here the woman recovered
+herself and lent her aid in closing the door against the tempest, a
+task that, for a time, seemed impossible. Her next thought was for her
+dinner-pot, now swaying in the fireplace, up which the draught was
+roaring furiously. Once the precious stew was in a sheltered corner,
+her courage failed again and she sank down beside it, moaning and
+wringing her hands.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;It is the end of the world!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Angelique!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Her wails ceased. That was a tone of voice she had never disobeyed in
+all her fifteen years of service.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Master Hugh.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Spread some blankets. Brew some herb tea. Get out a change of dry
+clothing. Make everything ready against I bring Margot in.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She watched him hurrying about securing all the windows, piling wood
+on the coals, straightening the disordered furniture, fastening a
+bundle of kindlings to his own shoulders, putting matches in the
+pocket of his closely buttoned coat, and caught something of his
+spirit. After all, it was a relief to be doing something, even though
+the roar of the tempest and the incessant flashes of lightning turned
+her sick with fear. But it was all too short a task; and when, at
+last, her master climbed outward through a sheltered rear window,
+closing it behind him, her temporary courage sank again and finally.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;The broken glass! the broken glass! Yet who would dream it is my
+darling&#8217;s bright young life must pay for that and not mine, the old
+and careworn? Ouch! the blast! That bolt struck&mdash;and near! Ah! me! Ah!
+me!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Meroude rubbed pleadingly against her arm and, glad of any living
+companionship, she put out her hand to touch him; but drew it back in
+dread, for his surcharged fur sparkled and set her flesh a-tingle,
+while the whole room grew luminous with an uncanny radiance. Feeling
+that her own last hour had come, poor Angelique crouched still lower
+in her corner and began to say her prayers with so much earnestness
+that she became almost oblivious to the tornado without.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, by stooping and clinging to whatever support offered, Hugh
+Dutton made his slow way beachward. But the bushes uprooted in his
+clasp and the bowlders slipped by him on this new torrent rushing to
+the lake. Then he flung himself face downward <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>and cautiously crawled
+toward the point of rocks whereon he meant to make his beacon fire.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She will see it and steer by it,&#8221; he reflected; for he would not
+acknowledge how hopeless would be any human steering under such a
+stress.</p>
+
+<p>Alas! the beacon would not light. The wind had turned icy cold and the
+rain changed to hail which hurled itself upon the tiny blaze and
+stifled its first breath. A sort of desperate patience fell on the man
+and he began again, with utmost care, to build and shelter his little
+stock of fire-wood. Match after match he struck and with unvarying
+failure, till all were gone; and realizing at last how chilled and
+rigid he was growing he struggled to his feet and set them into
+motion.</p>
+
+<p>Then there came a momentary lull in the storm and he shouted aloud, as
+Angelique had done:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Margot! Little Margot! <span class="smcap">Margot!</span>&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Another gust swept over lake and island. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>He could hear the great
+trees falling in the forest, the bang, bang, bang, of the deafening
+thunder, as, blinded by lightning and overcome by exhaustion, he sank
+down behind the pile of rocks and knew no more.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>SPIRIT OR MORTAL</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> end of that great storm was almost as sudden as its beginning.
+Aroused by the silence that succeeded the uproar, Angelique stood up
+and rubbed her limbs, stiff with long kneeling. The fire had gone out.
+Meroude was asleep on the blankets spread for Margot, who had not
+returned, nor the master. As for that matter the house-mistress had
+not expected that they ever would.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There is nothin&#8217; left. I am alone. It was the glass. Ah! that the
+palsy had but seized my unlucky hand before I took it from its shelf!
+How still it is. How clear, too, is my darling&#8217;s laugh&mdash;it rings
+through the room&mdash;it is a ghost. It will haunt me al-ways, al-ways.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Unable longer to bear the indoor silence, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>which her fancy filled with
+familiar sounds, she unbarred the heavy door and stepped out.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah! is it possible! Can the sun be settin&#8217; that way? as if there had
+been nothin&#8217; happenin&#8217;.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Wrecks strewed the open ground about the cabin, poultry coops were
+washed away, the cow shed was a heap of ruins, into which the
+trembling observer dared not peer. That Snowfoot should be dead was a
+calamity but second only to the loss of master and nursling.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah! my beast, my beast. The best in all this northern Maine. That the
+master bought and brought in the big canoe for an Easter gift to his
+so faithful Angelique. And yet the sun sets as red and calm as if all
+was the same as ever.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was, indeed, a scene of grandeur. The storm, in passing northward,
+had left scattered banks of clouds, now colored most brilliantly by
+the setting sun and widely reflected on the once more placid lake. But
+neither the beauty, nor the sweet, rain-washed air, appealed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>to the
+distracted islander who faced the west and shook her hand in impotent
+rage toward it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Shine, will you? With the harm all done and nothin&#8217; left but me, old
+Angelique! Pouf! I turn my back on you!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Then she ran shoreward with all speed, dreading what she might find
+yet eager to know the worst, if there it might be learned. With her
+apron over her head she saw only what lay straight before her and so
+passed the point of rocks without observing her master lying behind
+it. But a few steps further she paused, arrested by a sight which
+turned her numb with superstitious terror. What was that coming over
+the water? A ghost! a spirit!</p>
+
+<p>Did spirits paddle canoes and sing as this one was singing?</p>
+
+<div class="centerbox3 bbox2"><p>&#8220;The boatman&#8217;s song is borne along far over the water so blue,<br />
+And loud and clear, the voice we hear of the boatman so honest<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 7em;">and true;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">He&#8217;s rowing, rowing, rowing along,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">He&#8217;s rowing, rowing, rowing along&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5em;">He&#8217;s rowing and singing his song.&#8221;</span></p></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p><p>Ghosts should sing hymns, not jolly little ballads like this, in which
+one could catch the very rhythm and dip of oar or paddle. Still, it
+was as well to wait and see if this were flesh or apparition before
+pronouncing judgment.</p>
+
+<p>It was certainly a canoe, snowy white and most familiar&mdash;so familiar
+that the watcher began to lose her first terror. A girl knelt in it,
+Indian fashion, gracefully and evenly dipping her paddle to the melody
+of her lips. Her bare head was thrown back and her fair hair floated
+loose. Her face was lighted by the western glow, on which she fixed
+her eyes with such intentness that she did not perceive the woman who
+awaited her with now such mixed emotions.</p>
+
+<p>But Tom saw. Tom, the eagle, perched in the bow, keen of vision and of
+prejudice. Between him and old Angelique was a grudge of long
+standing. Whenever they met, even after a brief separation, he
+expressed his feelings by his hoarsest screech. He did so now <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>and, by
+so doing, recalled Margot from sky-gazing and his enemy from doubt.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah! Angelique! Watching for me? How kind of you. Hush, Tom. Let her
+alone, good Angelique, poor Angelique!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The eagle flapped his wings with a melancholy disdain and plunged his
+beak in his breast. The old woman on the beach was not worth minding,
+after all, by a monarch of the sky&mdash;as he would be but for his broken
+wing&mdash;but the girl was worth everything, even his obedience.</p>
+
+<p>She laughed at his sulkiness, plying her paddle the faster, and soon
+reached the pebbly beach, where she sprang out, and drawing her canoe
+out of the water, swept her old nurse a curtsey.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Home again, mother, and hungry for my supper.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Supper, indeed! Breakin&#8217; my heart with your run-about ways! and the
+hoorican&#8217;, with ever&#8217;thin&#8217; ruined, ever&#8217;thin&#8217;! The <span style="white-space: nowrap;">master&mdash;&mdash;</span> Where&#8217;s
+he, I know not. The great pine <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>broken like a match; the coops, the
+cow-house, and Snowfoot&mdash;&mdash; Ah, me! Yet the little one talks of
+supper!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot looked about her in astonishment, scarcely noticing the other&#8217;s
+words. The devastation of her beloved home was evident, even down on
+the open beach, and she dared not think what it might be further
+inland.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, it must have been a cyclone! We were reading about them only
+yesterday and Uncle Hugh&mdash;did you say that you knew&mdash;where is he?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Angelique shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Can I tell anythin&#8217;, me? Into the storm he went and out of it he will
+come alive, as you have. If the good Lord wills,&#8221; she added
+reverently.</p>
+
+<p>The girl sprang to the woman&#8217;s side, and caught her arm impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Tell me, quick. Where is he? where did you last see him?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Goin&#8217; into the hoorican&#8217;, with wood upon <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>his shoulder. To make a
+beacon for you. So I guess. But you&mdash;tell how you come alive out of
+all that?&#8221; Sweeping her arm over the outlook.</p>
+
+<p>Margot did not stop to answer but darted toward the point of rocks
+where, if anywhere, she knew her guardian would have tried his signal
+fire. In a moment she found him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Angelique! Angelique! He&#8217;s here. Quick&mdash;quick&mdash;&mdash; He&#8217;s&mdash;&mdash; Oh! is he
+dead, is he dead?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There was both French and Indian blood in mother Ricord&#8217;s veins, a
+passionate loyalty in her heart, and the suppleness of youth still in
+her spare frame. With a dash she was at the girl&#8217;s side and had thrust
+her away, to kneel herself and lift her master&#8217;s head from its hard
+pillow of rock.</p>
+
+<p>With swift nervous motions she unfastened his coat and bent her ear to
+his breast.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Tis only a faint, maybe shock. In all the world was only Margot, and
+Margot was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>lost. Ugh! the hail. See, it is still here&mdash;look! water,
+and&mdash;yes, the tea! It was for you&mdash;&mdash; Ah!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Her words ended with a sigh of satisfaction as a slight motion stirred
+the features into which she peered so earnestly, and she raised her
+master&#8217;s head a bit higher. Then his eyes slowly opened and the dazed
+look gradually gave place to a normal expression.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, Margot! Angelique? What&#8217;s happened?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! Uncle Hugh! are you hurt? are you ill? I found you here behind
+the rocks and Angelique says&mdash;but I wasn&#8217;t hurt at all. I wasn&#8217;t out
+in any storm, didn&#8217;t know there had been one, that is, worth minding,
+till I came home&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Like a ghost out of the lake. She was not even dead, not she. And she
+was singin&#8217; fit to burst her throat while you were&mdash;well, maybe, not
+dead, yourself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>At this juncture, Tom, the inquisitive, thrust his white head forward
+into the midst <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>of the group and, in her relief from her first fear,
+Margot laughed aloud.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t, Tom! You&#8217;re one of the family, of course, and since none of
+the rest of us will die to please that broken mirror, you may have to!
+Especially, if there&#8217;s a new brood out&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But here Angelique threw up her free hand with such a gesture of
+despair that Margot said no more, and her face sobered again,
+remembering that, even though they were all still alive, there might
+be suffering untold among her humbler woodland friends. Then, as Mr.
+Dutton rose, almost unaided, a fresh regret came:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That there should be a cyclone, right here at home, and I not to see
+it! See! Look, uncle, look! You can trace its very path, just as we
+read. Away to the south there is no sign of it, nor on the northeast.
+It must have swept up to us out of the southeast and taken our island
+in its track. Oh! I wouldn&#8217;t have missed it for anything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p><p>The man rested his hand upon her shoulder and turned her gently
+homeward. His weakness had left him as it had come upon him, with a
+suddenness like that of the recent tempest. It was not the first
+seizure of the kind, which he had had, though neither of these others
+knew it; and the fact added a deeper gravity to his always thoughtful
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am most thankful that you were not here; but where could you have
+been to escape it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All day in the long cave. To the very end of it I believe, and see! I
+found these. They are like the specimens you brought the other day.
+They must be some rich metal.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;In the long cave, you? Alone? All day? Margot, Margot, is not the
+glass enough? but you must tempt worse luck by goin&#8217; there!&#8221; cried
+Angelique, who had preceded the others on the path, but now faced
+about, trembling indignantly. What foolish <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>creature was this who
+would pass a whole day in that haunted spot, in spite of the dreadful
+tales that had been told of it. &#8220;Pouf! But I wear out my poor brain,
+everlastin&#8217; to study the charms will save you from evil, me. And
+yet&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You would do well to use some of your charms on Tom, yonder. He&#8217;s
+found an overturned coop and looks too happy to be out of mischief.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The woman wheeled again and was off up the slope like a flash, where
+presently the king of birds was treated to the indignity of a sound
+boxing, which he resented with squawks and screeches, but not with
+talons, since under each foot he held the plump body of a fat chicken.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Tom thinks a bird in the hand is worth a score of cuffs! and
+Angelique&#8217;s so determined to have somebody die&mdash;I hope it won&#8217;t be
+Tom. A pity, though, that harm should have happened to her own pets.
+Hark! What is that?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Some poor woodland creature in distress. The storm&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s no sound belonging to the forest. But it is&mdash;distress!&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>AN ESTRAY FROM CIVILIZATION</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">They</span> paused by the cabin door, left open by Angelique, and listened
+intently. She, too, had caught the alien sound, the faint, appealing
+halloo of a human voice&mdash;the rarest of all cries in that wilderness.
+Even the eagle&#8217;s screeches could not drown it, but she had had enough
+of anxieties for one day. Let other people look out for themselves;
+her precious ones should not stir afield again, no, not for anything.
+Let the evil bird devour the dead chickens, if he must, her place was
+in the cabin, and she rushed back down the slope, fairly forcing the
+others inward from the threshold where they hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Tis a loon. You should know that, I think, and that they&#8217;re always
+cryin&#8217; fit to scare the dead. Come. The supper&#8217;s waited this long
+time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p><p>With a smile that disarmed offense Margot caught the woman&#8217;s shoulder
+and lightly swung her aside out of the way.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Eat then, hungry one! I, too, am hungry, but&mdash;&mdash; Hark!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The cry came again, prolonged, entreating, not to be confounded with
+that of any forest wilding.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s from the north end of our own island!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The master&#8217;s ear was not less keen than the girl&#8217;s, and both had the
+acuteness of an Indian&#8217;s, but his judgment was better.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;From the mainland, across the narrows.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Neither delayed, as a mutual impulse sent them toward the shore, but
+again Angelique interposed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thoughtless child, have you no sense? With the master just out of a
+faint that was nigh death itself! With nothin&#8217; in his poor stomach
+since the mornin&#8217; and your own as empty. Wait. Eat. Then chase loons,
+if you will.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p><p>Mr. Dutton laughed, though he also frowned and cast a swift, anxious
+glance toward Margot. But she was intent upon nothing save answering
+that far-off cry.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Which canoe, uncle?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mine.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The devoted servant made a last protest, and caught the girl&#8217;s arm as
+it pushed the light craft downward into the water.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My child, he is not fit. Believe me. Best leave others to their fate
+than he should over-tax himself again, so soon.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot was astonished. In all her life she had never before associated
+thought of physical weakness with her stalwart guardian, and a sharp
+fear of some unknown trouble shot through her heart.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The master had reached them and now laid his own hand upon Angelique&#8217;s
+detaining one.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There, woman, that&#8217;s enough. The storm has shaken your nerves. If
+you&#8217;re afraid to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>stay alone, Margot shall stop with you. But let&#8217;s
+have no more nonsense.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mother Ricord stepped back, away. She had done her best. Let come what
+might, her conscience was clear.</p>
+
+<p>A few seconds later the canoe pushed off over the now darkening water
+and its inmates made all speed toward that point from which the cry
+had been heard, but was heard no more. However, the steersman followed
+a perfectly direct course and, if he were still weak from his seizure,
+his movement showed no signs of it, so that Margot&#8217;s fear for him was
+lost in the interest of their present adventure. She rhymed her own
+stroke to her uncle&#8217;s and when he rested her paddle instantly stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Halloo! Hal-l-oo!&#8221; he shouted, but as no answer came, said:
+&#8220;Now&mdash;both together!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The girl&#8217;s shriller treble may have had further carrying power than
+the man&#8217;s voice, for there was promptly returned to them an <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>echoing
+halloo, coming apparently from a great distance. But it was repeated
+at close intervals and each time with more distinctness.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ll beach the boat just yonder, under that tamarack. Whoever it is
+has heard and is coming back.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot&#8217;s impatience broke bounds and she darted forward among the
+trees, shouting: &#8220;This way! this way! here we are&mdash;here!&#8221; Her peculiar
+life and training had made her absolutely fearless, and she would have
+been surprised by her guardian&#8217;s command to &#8220;Wait!&#8221; had she heard it,
+which she did not. Also, she knew the forest as other girls know their
+city streets, and the dimness was no hindrance to her nimble feet. In
+a brief time she caught the crashing of boughs as some person, less
+familiar than she, blundered through the underbrush and finally came
+into view where a break in the timber gave a faint light.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Here! Here! This way!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p><p>He staggered and held out his hands, as if for aid, and Margot clasped
+them firmly. They were cold and tremulous. They were, also, slender
+and smooth, not at all like the hands of any men whom she was used to
+seeing. At the relief of her touch, his strength left him, but she
+caught his murmured:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank God. I&mdash;had&mdash;given up&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>His voice, too, was different from any she knew, save her own uncle&#8217;s.
+This was somebody, then, from that outside world of which she dreamed
+so much and knew so little. It was like a fairy tale come true.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you ill? There. Lean on me. Don&#8217;t fear. Oh! I&#8217;m strong, very
+strong, and uncle is just yonder, coming this way. Uncle&mdash;uncle!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The stranger was almost past speech. Mr. Dutton recognized that at
+once and added his support to Margot&#8217;s. Between them they half-led,
+half-carried the wanderer to the canoe and lifted him into it, where
+he sank <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>exhausted. Then they dipped their paddles and the boat shot
+homeward, racing with death. Angelique was still on the beach and
+still complaining of their foolhardiness, but one word from her master
+silenced that. &#8220;Lend a hand, woman! Here&#8217;s something real to worry
+about. Margot, go ahead and get the lights.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>As the girl sprang from it, the housekeeper pulled the boat to a spot
+above the water and, stooping, lifted a generous share of the burden
+it contained.</p>
+
+<p>It had not been a loon, then. No. Well, she had known that from the
+beginnin&#8217;, just as she had known that her beloved master was in no fit
+condition to go man-huntin&#8217;. This one he had found was, probably, dead
+anyway. Of course. Somebody had to die&mdash;beyond chickens and such&mdash;had
+not the broken glass so said?</p>
+
+<p>Even in the twilight Mr. Dutton could detect the grim satisfaction of
+her face and smiled, foreseeing her change of expression <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>when this
+seemingly lifeless guest should revive.</p>
+
+<p>They laid him on the lounge that had been spread with blankets for
+Margot, and she was already beside it, waiting to administer the herb
+tea which had, also, been prepared for herself, and which she had
+marveled to find so opportunely brewed.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dutton smiled again. In her simplicity the girl did not dream that
+the now bitter decoction was not a common restorative outside their
+primitive life, and in all good faith forced a spoonful of it between
+the closed lips.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;After all, it doesn&#8217;t matter. The poor fellow is doubtless used to
+richer cordials, but it&#8217;s hot and strong and will do the work. You,
+Angelique, make us a pot of your best coffee, and swing round that
+dinner-pot. The man is almost starved, and I&#8217;m on the road to follow
+him. How about you, Margot?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Poh! I guess I&#8217;m hungry&mdash;I will be&mdash;see! He&#8217;s swallowing it. Fast.
+Give me that bigger spoon! Quick!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;What would you? Scald the creature&#8217;s throat? So he isn&#8217;t dead, after
+all. Well, he needn&#8217;t have made a body think so, he needn&#8217;t. There,
+Margot! You&#8217;ve messed him with the black stuff!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Indignantly brushing her child aside the woman seized the cup and
+deftly administered its entire contents. The stranger had not yet
+opened his eyes, but accepted the warm liquid mechanically, and his
+nurse hurried to fill a bowl with the broth of the stew in the kettle.
+This, in turn, was taken from her by Margot, who jealously exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s mine. I heard him first, I found him first, let me be the first
+he sees. Dish up the supper, please, and set my uncle&#8217;s place.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>So when, a moment later, having been nearly choked by the more
+substantial food forced into his mouth, the guest opened his eyes,
+they beheld the eager face of a brown skinned, fair haired girl very
+close to his and heard her joyous cry:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;He sees me! he sees everything! He&#8217;s getting well already!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He had never seen anybody like her. Her hair was as abundant as a
+mantle and rippled over her shoulders like spun silver. So it looked
+in the lamplight. In fact, it had never been bound nor covered, and
+what in a different social condition might have been much darker, had
+in this outdoor life become bleached almost white. The weather which
+had whitened the hair had tanned the skin to bronze, making the blue
+eyes more vivid by contrast and the red lips redder. These were
+smiling now, over well kept teeth, and there was about the whole
+bearing of the maid something suggestive of the woodland in which she
+had been reared.</p>
+
+<p>Purity, honesty, freedom, all spoke in every motion and tone, and to
+this observer, at least, seemed better than any beauty. Presently, he
+was able to push her too willing hand gently away and to say:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not quite so fast, please.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Oh! uncle! Hear him? He talks just as you do! Not a bit like Pierre,
+or Joe, or the rest.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dutton came forward, smiling and remonstrating.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear, our new friend will think you quite rude, if you discuss him
+before his face, so frankly. But, sir, I assure you she means nothing
+but delight at your recovery. We are all most thankful that you are
+here and safe. There, Margot. Let the gentleman rest a few minutes.
+Then a cup of coffee may be better than the stew. Were you long
+without food, friend?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The stranger tried to answer but the effort tired him, and with a
+beckoning nod to the young nurse, the woodlander led the way back to
+the table and their own delayed supper. Both needed it and both ate it
+rather hastily, much to the disgust of Angelique who felt that her
+skill was wasted; but one was anxious to be off out of doors, to learn
+the damage left by the storm, and the other to be back <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>on her stool
+beside the lounge. When Mr. Dutton rose, the housekeeper left her own
+seat.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll fetch the lantern, master. But that&#8217;s the last of Snowfoot&#8217;s
+good milk you&#8217;ll ever drink,&#8221; she sighed, touching the pitcher sadly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What? Is anything wrong with her?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The cow-house is in ruins. So are the poultry coops. What with
+falling ill yourself just at the worst time and fetchin&#8217; home other
+sick folks we might all go to wrack and nobody the better.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The familiar grumbling provoked only a smile from the master, who
+would readily have staked his life on the woman&#8217;s devotion to &#8220;her
+people&#8221; and knew that the apparent crossness was not that in reality.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Fie, good Angelique! Never so happy as when you&#8217;re miserable. Come
+on. Nothing must suffer if we can prevent. Take care of our guest,
+Margot, but give him his nourishment slowly, at intervals. I&#8217;ll get
+some tools, and join you at the shed, Angelique.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p><p>He went out and the housekeeper followed with the lantern, not needed
+in the moonlight, but possibly of use at the fallen cow-house.</p>
+
+<p>They were long gone. The stranger dozed, waked, ate, and dozed again.
+Margot, accustomed to early hours, also slept and soundly, till a
+fearful shriek roused her. Her patient was wildly kicking and striking
+at some hideous monster which had settled on his chest and would not
+be displaced.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s killing me! Help&mdash;help! Oh-a-ah!&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>WHAT WAS IN THE NAME</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Thrusting</span> back the hair that had fallen over her eyes, Margot sprang
+up and stared at the floundering mass of legs, arms, and wings upon
+the wide lounge&mdash;a battle to the death, it seemed. Then she caught the
+assailant in her strong hands and flung him aside, while her laughter
+rang out in a way to make the stranger, also, stare, believing she had
+gone crazy with sudden fear.</p>
+
+<p>But his terror had restored his strength most marvelously, for he too,
+leaped to his feet and retreated to the furthest corner of the room,
+whence he regarded the scene with dilated eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why&mdash;why&mdash;it&#8217;s nobody, nothing but dear old Tom!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s an eagle! The first&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course, he&#8217;s an eagle. Aren&#8217;t you, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>dear? The most splendid bird
+in Maine, or maybe Canada. The wisest, the most loving, the&mdash;&mdash; Oh!
+You big blundering precious thing! Scaring people like that. You
+should be more civil, sir.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is&mdash;is&mdash;he tame?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Tame as a pet chicken. But mischievous. He wouldn&#8217;t hurt you for
+anything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Humph! He would have killed me if I hadn&#8217;t waked and yelled.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, you did that surely. You feel better, don&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wish you&#8217;d put him outdoors, or shut him up where he belongs. I
+want to sit down.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s no reason why you shouldn&#8217;t,&#8221; she answered, pushing a chair
+toward him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where did you get it&mdash;that creature?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Uncle found him when he was ever so young. Somebody or something, a
+hunter or some other bird, had hurt his wing and one foot. Eagles can
+be injured by the least little blow upon their wings, you know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;No. I know nothing about them&mdash;yet. But I shall, some day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! I hope so. They&#8217;re delightful to study. Tom is very large, we
+think. He&#8217;s nearly four feet tall, and his wings&mdash;&mdash; Spread your
+wings, sir! Spread!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot had dropped upon the floor before the wide fireplace, her
+favorite seat. Her arms clasped her strange pet&#8217;s body while his white
+head rested lovingly upon her shoulder. His eyes were fixed upon the
+blazing logs and his yellow irises gleamed as if they had caught and
+held the dancing flames. But at her command he shook himself free, and
+extended one mighty wing, while she stretched out the other. Their
+tips were full nine feet apart and seemed to fill and darken the whole
+place.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of this odd girl&#8217;s fearless handling of the bird, it looked
+most formidable to the visitor, who retreated again to a safe
+distance, though he had begun to advance toward her. And again he
+implored her to put the uncanny &#8220;monster&#8221; out of the house.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p><p>Margot laughed; as she was always doing; but going to the table filled
+a plate with fragments from the stew and calling Tom, set the dish
+before him on the threshold.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s your supper, Thomas the King! Which means, no more of
+Angelique&#8217;s chickens, dead or alive.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The eagle gravely limped out of doors and the visitor felt relieved,
+so that he cast somewhat longing glances upon the table, and Margot
+was quick to understand them. Putting a generous portion upon another
+plate, she moved a chair to the side nearest the fire.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re so much stronger, I guess it won&#8217;t hurt you to take as much as
+you like now. When did you eat anything before?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Day before yesterday&mdash;I think. I hardly know. The time seems
+confused. As if I had been wandering, round and round, forever. I&mdash;was
+almost dead, wasn&#8217;t I?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. But &#8217;twas our housekeeper who was first to see it was
+starvation. Angelique is a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>Canadian. She lived in the woods long
+before we came to them. She is very wise.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He made no comment, being then too busy eating; but at length, even
+his voracity was satisfied and he had leisure to examine his
+surroundings. He looked at Margot as if girls were as unknown as
+eagles; and indeed such as she were&mdash;to him, at least. Her dress was
+of blue flannel, and of the same simple cut that she had always worn.
+A loose blouse, short skirt, full knickerbockers, met at the knees by
+long shoes, or gaiters of buckskin. These were as comfortable and
+pliable as Indian moccasins, and the only footgear she had ever known.
+They were made for her in a distant town, whither Mr. Dutton went for
+needed supplies, and, like the rest of her costume, after a design of
+his own. She was certainly unconventional in manner, but not from
+rudeness so much as from a desire to study him&mdash;another unknown
+&#8220;specimen&#8221; from an outside world. Her speech was correct beyond that
+common among schoolgirls, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>and her gaze was as friendly as it was
+frank.</p>
+
+<p>Their scrutiny of each other was ended by her exclaiming:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why&mdash;you are not old! Not much older than Pierre, I believe! It must
+be because you are so dirty that I thought you were a man like uncle.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; he answered drily.</p>
+
+<p>But she had no intention of offense. Accustomed all her own life to
+the utmost cleanliness, in the beginning insisted upon by Angelique
+because it was &#8220;proper,&#8221; and by her guardian for health&#8217;s sake, she
+had grown up with a horror of the discomfort of any untidiness, and
+she felt herself most remiss in her attentions, that she had not
+earlier offered soap and water. Before he realized what she was about,
+she had sped into the little outer room which the household used as a
+lavatory and whirled a wooden tub into its centre. This she promptly
+filled with water from a pipe in the wall, and having hung <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>fresh
+towels on a chair, returned to the living room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m so sorry. I ought to have thought of that right away. But a bath
+is ready now, if you wish it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The stranger rose, stammered a little, but accepted what was in truth
+a delightful surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, this is still more amazing! Into what sort of a spot have I
+stumbled? It&#8217;s a log house, but with apparently, several rooms. It has
+all the comforts of civilization and at least this one luxury. There
+are books, too. I saw them in that inner apartment as I passed the
+open door. The man looks like a gentleman in the disguise of a
+lumberman, and the girl&mdash;what&#8217;ll she do next? Ask me where I came from
+and why, I presume. If she does, I&#8217;ll have to answer her, and
+truthfully. I can&#8217;t fancy anybody lying to those blue eyes. Maybe she
+won&#8217;t ask.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She did, however, as soon as he re&euml;ntered the living room, refreshed
+and certainly much <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>more attractive in appearance than when he had had
+the soil and litter of his long wandering upon him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! how much more comfortable you must be. How did you get lost? Is
+your home far from here?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A long, long way;&#8221; and for a moment, something like sadness touched
+his face. That look passed quickly and a defiant expression took its
+place.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a pity! It will be so much harder to get word to your people.
+Maybe Pierre can carry a message, or show you the road, once you are
+strong enough again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who&#8217;s Pierre?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mother Ricord&#8217;s son. He&#8217;s a woodlander and wiser even than she is.
+He&#8217;s really more French than Indian, but uncle says the latter race is
+strongest in him. It often is in his type.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A-ah, indeed! So you study types up here, do you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. Uncle makes it so interesting. You <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>see, he got used to teaching
+stupid people when he was a professor in his college. I&#8217;m dreadfully
+stupid about books, though I do my best. But I love living things; and
+the books about animals, and races, are charming. When they&#8217;re true,
+that is. Often they&#8217;re not. There&#8217;s one book on squirrels uncle keeps
+as a curiosity, to show how little the writer knew about them. And the
+pictures are no more like squirrels than&mdash;than they are like me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A-ah,&#8221; said the listener, again. &#8220;That explains.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know what you mean. No matter. It&#8217;s the old stupidity, I
+suppose. How did you get lost?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The same prevailing stupidity,&#8221; he laughed. &#8220;Though I didn&#8217;t realize
+it for that quality. Just thought I was smart, you know&mdash;conceit.
+I&mdash;I&mdash;well, I didn&#8217;t get on so very well at the lumber camp I&#8217;d
+joined. I wasn&#8217;t used to work of that sort and there didn&#8217;t seem to be
+room, even in the woods, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>for a greenhorn. I thought it was easy
+enough. I could find my way anywhere, in any wilderness, with my
+outfit. I&#8217;d brought that along, or bought it after I left
+civilization; so one night I left, set out to paddle my own canoe. I
+paddled it into the rapids, what those fellows called rips, and they
+ripped me to ruin. Upset, lost all my kit, tried to find my way back,
+wandered and walked forever and ever, it seemed to me, and&mdash;you know
+the rest.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But I do not. Did you keep hallooing all that long time? or how did
+it happen we heard you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was in a rocky place when that tornado came and it was near the
+water. I had just sense enough left to know they could protect me and
+crept under them. Oh! that was awful&mdash;awful!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It must have been, but I was so deep in our cave that I heard but
+little of it. Uncle and Angelique thought I was out in it and lost.
+They suffered about it, and uncle tried <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>to make a fire and was sick.
+We had just got home when we heard you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;After the storm I crawled out and I saw you in the boat. You seemed
+to have come right out of the earth and I shouted, or tried to. I kept
+on shouting, even after you were out of sight and then I got
+discouraged and tried once more to find a road out.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was singing so loud I suppose I didn&#8217;t hear, at first. I&#8217;m so
+sorry. But it&#8217;s all right now. You&#8217;re safe, and some way will be found
+to get you to your home, or that lumber camp, if you&#8217;d rather.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Suppose I do not wish to go to either place? What then?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot stared. &#8220;Not&mdash;wish&mdash;to go&mdash;to your own dear&mdash;home?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The stranger smiled at the amazement of her face.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Maybe not. Especially as I don&#8217;t know how I would be received there.
+What if I was foolish and didn&#8217;t know when I was well <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>off? What if I
+ran away, meaning to stay away forever?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, if it hadn&#8217;t been for the rocks, and me, it would have been
+forever. But God made the rocks and gave them to you for a shelter;
+and He made me, and sent me out on the lake so you should see me and
+be found. If He wants you to go back to that home He&#8217;ll find a way.
+Now, it&#8217;s queer. Here we&#8217;ve been talking ever so long yet I don&#8217;t know
+who you are. You know all of us: Uncle Hugh Dutton, Angelique Ricord,
+and me. I&#8217;m Margot Romeyn. What is your name?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mine? Oh! I&#8217;m Adrian Wadislaw. A good-for-nought, some people say.
+Young Wadislaw, the sinner, son of old Wadislaw, the saint.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The answer was given recklessly, while the dark young face grew sadly
+bitter and defiant.</p>
+
+<p>After a moment, something startled Margot from the shocked surprise
+with which she had heard this harsh reply. It was a sigh, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>almost a
+groan, as from one who had been more deeply startled even than
+herself. Turning, she saw the master standing in the doorway, staring
+at their visitor as if he had seen a ghost and nearly as white as one
+himself.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>IN ALADDIN LAND</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> seemed to Margot, watching, that it was an endless time her uncle
+stood there gazing with that startled look upon their guest. In
+reality it was but a moment. Then he passed his hand over his eyes, as
+one who would brush away a mist, and came forward. He was still unduly
+pale, but he spoke in a courteous, almost natural manner, and quietly
+accepted the chair Margot hastened to bring him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are getting rested, Mr.&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! please don&#8217;t &#8216;Mister&#8217; me, sir. You&#8217;ve been so good to me and I&#8217;m
+not used to the title. Though, in my scratches and wood-dirt, this
+young lady did take me for an old fellow. Yes, thanks to her
+thoughtfulness, I&#8217;ve found myself again, and I&#8217;m just &#8216;Adrian,&#8217; if
+you&#8217;ll be so kind.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p><p>There was something very winning in this address, and it suited the
+elder man well. The stranger was scarcely out of boyhood and reminded
+the old collegian of other lads whom he had known and loved.
+&#8220;Wadislaw&#8221; was not a particularly pleasing name that one should dwell
+upon it, unless necessary. &#8220;Adrian&#8221; was better and far more common.
+Neither did it follow that this person was of a family he remembered
+far too well; and so Mr. Dutton reassured himself. In any case the
+youth was now &#8220;the stranger within the gates&#8221; and therefore entitled
+to the best.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Adrian, then. We are a simple household, following the old habit of
+early to bed and to rise. You must be tired enough to sleep anywhere,
+and there is another big lounge in my study. You would best occupy it
+to-night, and to-morrow Angelique will fix you better quarters. Few
+guests favor us in our far-away home,&#8221; he finished with a smile that
+was full of hospitality.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p><p>Adrian rose at once and bidding Margot and Angelique good-night,
+followed his host into a big room which, save for the log walls, might
+have been the library of some city home. It was a room which somehow
+gave him the impression of vastness, liberality, and freedom&mdash;an
+enclosed bit of the outside forest. Like each of the other apartments
+he had seen it had its great fireplace and its blazing logs, not at
+all uncomfortable now in the chill that had come after the storm.</p>
+
+<p>But he was too worn out to notice much more than these details, and
+without undressing, dropped upon the lounge and drew the Indian
+blanket over him. His head rested upon great pillows stuffed with
+fragrant spruce needles, and this perfume of the woods soothed him
+into instant sleep.</p>
+
+<p>But Hugh Dutton stood for many minutes, gravely studying the face of
+the unconscious stranger. It was a comely, intelligent face, though
+marred by self-will and indulgence, and with each passing second its
+features <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>grew more and more painfully familiar. Why, why, had it come
+into his distant retreat to disturb his peace? A peace that it had
+taken fifteen years of life to gain, that had been achieved only by
+bitter struggle with self and with all that was lowest in a noble
+nature.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Alas! And I believed I had at last learned to forgive!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But none the less because of the bitterness would this man be unjust.
+His very flesh recoiled from contact with that other flesh, fair as it
+might be in the sight of most eyes, yet he forced himself to draw with
+utmost gentleness the covering over the sleeper&#8217;s shoulders, and to
+interpose a screening chair between him and the firelight.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, one may at least control his actions, if not his thoughts,&#8221; he
+murmured and quietly left the place.</p>
+
+<p>A few moments later he stood regarding Margot, also, as she lay in
+sleep, and all the love of his strong nature rose to protect her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>from
+the sorrow which she would have to bear some time but&mdash;not yet! Oh!
+not yet! Then he turned quickly and went out of doors.</p>
+
+<p>There had been nights in this woodlander&#8217;s life when no roof could
+cover him. When even the forest seemed to suffocate, and when he had
+found relief only upon the bald bare top of that rocky height which
+crowned the island. On such nights he had gone out early and come home
+with the daybreak, and none had known of his absence, save, now and
+then, the faithful Angelique, who knew the master&#8217;s story but kept it
+to herself.</p>
+
+<p>Margot had never guessed of these midnight expeditions, nor understood
+the peculiar love and veneration her guardian had for that mountain
+top. She better loved the depths of the wonderful forest, with its
+flowers and ferns, and its furred or feathered creatures. She was
+dreaming of these, the next morning, when her uncle&#8217;s cheery whistle
+called her to get up.</p>
+
+<p>A cold plunge, a swift dressing, and she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>was with him, seeing no
+signs of either illness or sorrow in his genial face, and eager with
+plans for the coming day. All her days were delightful, but this would
+be best of all.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;To think, uncle dear, that somebody else has come at last to see our
+island! why, there&#8217;s so much to show him I can hardly wait, nor know
+where best to begin.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Suppose, Miss Impatience, we begin with breakfast? Here comes Adrian.
+Ask his opinion.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Never was so hungry in my life!&#8221; agreed that youth, as he came
+hastily forward to bid them both good-morning. &#8220;I mean&mdash;not since last
+night. I wonder if a fellow that&#8217;s been half-starved, or
+three-quarters even, will ever get his appetite down to normal again?
+It seems to me I could eat a whole wild animal at a sitting!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So you shall, boy. So you shall!&#8221; cried Angelique, who now came in
+carrying a great dish of browned and smoking fish. This she placed at
+her master&#8217;s end of the table and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>flanked it with another platter of
+daintily crisped potatoes. There were heaps of delicate biscuits, with
+coffee and cakes galore; enough, the visitor thought, to satisfy even
+his own extravagant hunger, and again he wondered at such fare in such
+a wilderness.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, this might be a hotel table!&#8221; he exclaimed, in unfeigned
+pleasure. &#8220;Not much like lumberman&#8217;s fare: salt pork, bad bread,
+molasses-sweetened tea, and the everlasting beans. I hope I shall
+never have to look another bean in the face! But that coffee! I never
+smelled anything so delicious.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Had some last night,&#8221; commented Angelique, shortly. She perceived
+that this stranger was in some way obnoxious to her beloved master,
+and she resented the surprise with which he had seen her take her own
+place behind the tray. Her temper seemed fairly cross-edged that
+morning and Margot remarked:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t mind mother. She&#8217;s dreadfully disappointed that nobody died and
+no bad <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>luck followed her breaking a mirror, yesterday.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No bad luck?&#8221; demanded Angelique, looking at Adrian with so marked a
+manner that it spoke volumes. &#8220;And as for dyin&#8217;&mdash;you&#8217;ve but to go into
+the woods and you&#8217;ll see.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Here Tom created a diversion by entering and limping straight to the
+stranger&#8217;s side, who moved away, then blushed at his own timidity,
+seeing the amusement with which the others regarded him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! we&#8217;re all one family here, servants and ever&#8217;body,&#8221; cried the
+woman, tossing the eagle a crumb of biscuit.</p>
+
+<p>But the big bird was not to be drawn from his scrutiny of this new
+face; and the gravity of his unwinking gaze was certainly
+disconcerting.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Get out, you uncanny creature! Beg pardon, Miss Margot, but I&#8217;m&mdash;he
+seems to have a special grudge against me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! no. He doesn&#8217;t understand who you are, yet. We had a man here
+last year, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>helping uncle, and Tom acted just as he does now. Though
+he never would make friends with the Canadian, as I hope he will with
+you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Angelique flashed a glance toward the girl. Why should she, or anybody
+speak as if this lad&#8217;s visit were to be a prolonged one? And they had,
+both she and the master. He had bidden the servant fill a fresh &#8220;tick&#8221;
+with the dried and shredded fern leaves and pine needles, such as
+supplied their own mattresses; and to put all needful furnishings into
+the one disused room of the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But, master! When you&#8217;ve always acted as if that were bein&#8217; kept for
+somebody who was comin&#8217; some day. Somebody you love!&#8221; she protested.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have settled the matter, Angelique. Don&#8217;t fear that I&#8217;ve not
+thought it all out. &#8216;Do unto others,&#8217; you know. For each day its duty,
+its battle with self, and, please God, its victory.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s a saint, ever&#8217;body knows; and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>there&#8217;s somethin&#8217; behind all this
+I don&#8217;t understand!&#8221; she had muttered, but had also done his bidding,
+still complaining.</p>
+
+<p>Commonly, meals were leisurely affairs in that forest home, but on
+this morning Mr. Dutton set an example of haste that the others
+followed; and as soon as their appetites were satisfied he rose and
+said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll show you your own room now, Adrian. Occupy it as long as you
+wish. And find something to amuse yourself with while I am gone; for I
+have much to do out of doors. It was the worst storm, for its
+duration, that ever struck us. Fortunately, most of the outbuildings
+need only repairs, but Snowfoot&#8217;s home is such a wreck she must have a
+new one. Margot, will you run up the signal for Pierre?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed! Though I believe he will come without it. He&#8217;ll be
+curious about the tornado, too, and it&#8217;s near his regular visiting
+time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The room assigned to Adrian excited his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>fresh surprise; though he
+assured himself that he would be amazed at nothing further, when he
+saw lying upon a table in the middle of the floor, two complete suits
+of clothing, apparently placed there by the thoughtful host for his
+guest to use. They were not of the latest style, but perfectly new and
+bore the stamp of a well-known tailor of his own city.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where did he get them, and so soon? What a mammoth of a house it is,
+though built of logs. And isn&#8217;t it the most fitting and beautiful of
+houses, after all? Whence came those comfortable chairs? and the
+books? Most of all, where and how did he get that wonderful picture
+over that magnificent log mantel? It looks like a room made ready for
+the unexpected coming of some prodigal son! I&#8217;m that, sure enough; but
+not of this household. If I were&mdash;well, maybe&mdash;&mdash; Oh! hum!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The lad crossed the floor and gazed reverently at the solitary
+painting which the room contained. A marvelously lifelike head of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>the
+Man of Sorrows, bending forward and gazing upon the onlooker with eyes
+of infinite tenderness and appealing. Beneath it ran the inscription:
+&#8220;Come Unto Me&#8221;; and in one corner was the artist&#8217;s signature&mdash;a broken
+pine branch.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Whew! I wonder if that fellow ran away from home because he loved a
+brush and paint tube! What sort of a spot have I strayed into, anyway?
+A paradise? Hmm. I wish the mater could see me now. She&#8217;d not be so
+unhappy over her unworthy son, maybe. Bless her, anyhow. If everybody
+had been like her&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He finished his soliloquy before an open window, through which he
+could see the summit of the bare mountain that crowned the centre of
+the island, and was itself crowned by a single pine-tree. Though many
+of its branches had been lopped away, enough were left to form a sort
+of spiral stairway up its straight trunk and to its lofty top.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a magnificent flagstaff that would <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>make! I&#8217;d like to see Old Glory floating there. Believe I&#8217;ll suggest
+it to the magician&mdash;that&#8217;s what this woodlander is&mdash;and doubtless
+he&#8217;ll attend to that little matter! Shades of Aladdin!&#8221;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 372px;">
+<img src="images/i066.jpg" class="illogap jpg" width="372" height="500" alt="SHE UNROLLED THE STARS AND STRIPES" title="" />
+<span class="caption">SHE UNROLLED THE STARS AND STRIPES</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Adrian was so startled that he dropped into a chair, the better to
+sustain himself against further Arabian-nights-like discoveries.</p>
+
+<p>It was a flagstaff! Somebody was climbing it&mdash;Margot! Up, up, like a
+squirrel, her blond head appearing first on one side then the other, a
+glowing budget strapped to her back.</p>
+
+<p>Adrian gasped. No sailor could have been more fleet or sure-footed. It
+seemed but a moment before that slender figure had scaled the topmost
+branch and was unrolling the brilliant burden it had borne. The stars
+and stripes, of course. Adrian would have been bitterly disappointed
+if it had been anything else this agile maiden hoisted from that dizzy
+height.</p>
+
+<p>In wild excitement and admiration the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>watcher leaned out of his
+window and shouted hoarsely:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hurrah! H-u-r-rah! <span style="white-space: nowrap;"><span class="smcap">H-u-r&mdash;&mdash;!</span></span>&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The cheer died in his throat. Something had happened. Something too
+awful to contemplate. Adrian&#8217;s eyes closed that he might not see. Had
+her foot slipped? Had his own cry reached and startled her?</p>
+
+<p>For she was falling&mdash;falling! and the end could be but one.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>A ONE-SIDED STORY</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Adrian</span> was not a gymnast though he had seen and admired many wonderful
+feats performed by his own classmates. But he had never beheld a
+miracle, and such he believed had been accomplished when, upon
+reaching the foot of that terrible tree, he found Margot sitting
+beneath it, pale and shaken, but, apparently, unhurt.</p>
+
+<p>She had heard his breathless crashing up the slope and greeted him
+with a smile, and the tremulous question:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How did you know where I was?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You aren&#8217;t&mdash;dead?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Certainly not. I might have been, though, but God took care.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Was it my cheers frightened you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Was it you, then? I heard something, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>different from the wood sounds,
+and I looked quick to see. Then my foot slipped and I went down&mdash;a
+way. I caught a branch just in time and, please, don&#8217;t tell uncle. I&#8217;d
+rather do that myself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You should never do such a thing. The idea of a girl climbing trees
+at all, least of any, such a tree as that!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He threw his head back and looked upward, through the green spiral to
+the brilliant sky. The enormous height revived the horror he had felt
+as he leaped through the window and rushed to the mountain.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who planned such a death-trap as that, anyway?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I did.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You! A girl!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. Why not. It&#8217;s great fun, usually.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;d better have been learning to sew.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can sew, but I don&#8217;t like it. Angelique does that. I do like
+climbing and canoeing and botanizing, and geologizing, and
+astronomizing, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">and&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p><p>Adrian threw up his hands in protest.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What sort of creature are you, anyway?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Just plain girl.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Anything but that!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, girl, without the adjective. Suits me rather better;&#8221; and she
+laughed in a way that proved she was not suffering from her mishap.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This is the strangest place I ever saw. You are the strangest family.
+We are certainly in the backwoods of Maine, yet you might be a Holyoke
+senior, or a circus star, or&mdash;a fairy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot stretched her long arms and looked at them quizzically.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Fairies don&#8217;t grow so big. Why don&#8217;t you sit down? Or, if you will,
+climb up and look toward the narrows on the north. See if Pierre&#8217;s
+birch is coming yet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Again Adrian glanced upward, to the flag floating there, and shrugged
+his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Excuse me, please. That is, I suppose I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>could do it, only seeing you
+slip&mdash;I prefer to wait awhile.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you afraid?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There was no sarcasm in the question. She asked it in all sincerity.
+Adrian was different from Pierre, the only other boy she knew, and she
+simply wondered if tree-climbing were among his unknown
+accomplishments.</p>
+
+<p>It had been, to the extent possible with his city training and his
+brief summer vacations, though unpracticed of late; but no lad of
+spirit, least of all impetuous Adrian, could bear even the suggestion
+of cowardice. He did not sit down, as she had bidden, but tossed aside
+his rough jacket and leaped to the lower branch of the pine.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, it&#8217;s easy! It&#8217;s grand!&#8221; he called back and went up swiftly
+enough.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, it was not so difficult as it appeared from a distance.
+Wherever the branches failed the spiral ladder had been perfected by
+great spikes driven into the trunk and he had but to clasp these in
+turn to make a safe <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>ascent. At the top he waved his hand, then shaded
+his eyes and peered northward.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s coming! Somebody&#8217;s coming!&#8221; he shouted. &#8220;There&#8217;s a little boat
+pushing off from that other shore.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Then he descended with a rapidity that delighted even himself and
+called a bit of praise from Margot.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m so glad you can climb. One can see so much more from the
+tree-tops; and, oh! there is so much, so much to find out all the
+time! Isn&#8217;t there?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. Decidedly. One of the things I&#8217;d like to find out first is who
+you are and how you came here. If you&#8217;re willing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Then he added, rather hastily: &#8220;Of course, I don&#8217;t want to be
+impertinently curious. It only seems so strange to find such educated
+people buried here in the north woods. I don&#8217;t see how you live here.
+I&mdash;<span style="white-space: nowrap;">I&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>But the more he tried to explain the more confused he grew, and Margot
+merrily simplified matters by declaring:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;You are curious, all the same, and so am I. Let&#8217;s tell each other all
+about everything and then we&#8217;ll start straight without the bother of
+stopping as we go along. Do sit down and I&#8217;ll begin.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ready.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s so little, I shan&#8217;t be long. My dear mother was Cecily
+Dutton, my Uncle Hugh&#8217;s twin. My father was Philip Romeyn, uncle&#8217;s
+closest friend. They were almost more than brothers to each other,
+always; though uncle was a student and, young as he was, a professor
+at Columbia. Papa was a business man, a banker, or a cashier in a
+bank. He wasn&#8217;t rich, but mamma and uncle had money. From the time
+they were boys uncle and papa were fond of the woods. They were great
+hunters, then, and spent all the time they could get up here in
+northern Maine. After the marriage mamma begged to come with them, and
+it was her money bought this island, and the land along the shore of
+this lake as far as we can see from here. Much <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>farther, too, of
+course, because the trees hide things. They built this log cabin and
+it cost a great, great deal to do it. They had to bring the workmen so
+far, but it was finished at last, and everything was brought up here
+to make it&mdash;just as you see.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What an ideal existence!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Was it? I don&#8217;t know much about ideals, though uncle talks of them
+sometimes. It was real, that&#8217;s all. They were very, very happy. They
+loved each other so dearly. Angelique came from Canada to keep the
+house and she says my mother was the sweetest woman she ever saw. Oh!
+I wish&mdash;I wish I could have seen her! Or that I might remember her.
+I&#8217;ll show you her portrait. It hangs in my own room.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did she die?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. When I was a year old. My father had passed away before that,
+and my mother was broken-hearted. Even for uncle and me she could not
+bear to live. It was my father&#8217;s wish that we should come up here to
+stay, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>Uncle Hugh left everything and came. I was to be reared &#8216;in
+the wilderness, where nothing evil comes,&#8217; was what both my parents
+said. So I have been, and&mdash;that&#8217;s all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian was silent for some moments. The girl&#8217;s face had grown dreamy
+and full of a pathetic tenderness as it always did when she discussed
+her unknown father and mother, even with Angelique. Though, in
+reality, she had not been allowed to miss what she had never known.
+Then she looked up with a smile and observed:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your turn.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes&mdash;I&mdash;suppose so. May as well give the end of my story <span style="white-space: nowrap;">first&mdash;&mdash;</span>
+I&#8217;m a runaway.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No matter why.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That isn&#8217;t fair.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He parried the indignation of her look by some further questions of
+his own. &#8220;Have you always lived here?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Always.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You go to the towns sometimes, I suppose.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve never seen a town, except in pictures.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Whew! Don&#8217;t you have any friends? Any girls come to see you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I never saw a girl, only myself in that poor broken glass of
+Angelique&#8217;s; and, of course, the pictured ones&mdash;as of the towns&mdash;in
+the books.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You poor child!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot&#8217;s brown face flushed. She wanted nobody&#8217;s pity and she had not
+felt that her life was a singular or narrow one, till this outsider
+came. A wish very like Angelique&#8217;s, that he had stayed where he
+belonged, arose in her heart, but she dismissed it as inhospitable.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m not poor. Not in the least. I have everything any girl could want
+and I have&mdash;uncle! He is the best, the wisest, the noblest man in all
+the world. I know it, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>so Angelique says. She&#8217;s been in your
+towns, if you please. Lived in them and says she never knew what
+comfort meant until she came to Peace Island and us. You don&#8217;t
+understand.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot was more angry than she had ever been, and anger made her
+decidedly uncomfortable. She sprang up hastily, saying:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If you&#8217;ve nothing to tell, I must go. I want to get into the forest
+and look after my friends there. The storm may have hurt them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She was off down the mountain, as swift and sure-footed as if it were
+not a rough pathway that made him blunder along very slowly. For he
+followed, at once, feeling that he had not been &#8220;fair,&#8221; as she had
+accused, in his report of himself; and that only a complete confidence
+was due these people who had treated him so kindly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Margot! Margot! Wait a minute! You&#8217;re too swift for me! I want
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">to&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Just there he caught his foot in a running <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>vine, stumbled over a
+hidden rock, and measured his length, head downward, on the slope. He
+was not hurt, however, though vexed and mortified. But when he had
+picked himself up and looked around the girl had vanished.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>A WOODLAND MENAGERIE</h3>
+
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">Hoo-ah</span>! Yo-ho! H-e-r-e! This&mdash;way!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian followed the voice. It led him aside into the woods on the
+eastern slope, and it was accompanied by an indescribable babel of
+noises. Running water, screaming of wild fowl, cooing of pigeons,
+barking of dogs or some other beasts, cackling, chattering, laughter.</p>
+
+<p>All the sounds of wild life had ceased suddenly in the tree-tops, as
+Adrian approached, recognizing and fearing his alien presence. But
+they were reassured by Margot&#8217;s familiar summons, and soon the
+&#8220;menagerie&#8221; he had suspected was gathered about her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Whew! It just rains squirrels&mdash;and chipmunks&mdash;and birds! Hello!
+That&#8217;s a fawn. That&#8217;s a fox! As sure as I&#8217;m alive, a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>magnificent red
+fox! Why isn&#8217;t he eating the whole outfit? <span style="white-space: nowrap;">And&mdash;&mdash; Hurra!&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>To the amazement of the watcher there came from the depths of the
+woods a sound that always thrills the pulses of any hunter&mdash;the cry of
+a moose-calf, accompanied by a soft crashing of branches, growing
+gradually louder.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So they tame even the moose&mdash;these wonderful people! What next!&#8221; and
+as Adrian leaned forward the better to watch the advance of this
+uncommon &#8220;pet,&#8221; the &#8220;next&#8221; concerning which he had speculated also
+approached. Slowly up the river bank, stalked a pair of blue herons,
+and for them Margot had her warmest welcome.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Heigho, Xanthipp&eacute;, Socrates! What laggards! But here&#8217;s your
+breakfast, or one of them. I suppose you&#8217;ve eaten the other long ago.
+Indeed, you&#8217;re always eating, gourmands!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The red fox eyed the newcomers with a longing eye and crept cautiously
+to his mistress&#8217; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>side as she coaxed the herons nearer. But she was
+always prepared for any outbreak of nature among her forest friends,
+and drew him also close to her with the caressing touch she might have
+bestowed upon a beloved house-dog.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Reynard, you beauty! Your head in my lap, sir;&#8221; and dropping to a
+sitting posture, she forced him to obey her. There he lay, winking but
+alert, while she scattered her store of good things right and left.
+There were nuts for the squirrels and &#8217;munks, grains and seeds for the
+winged creatures, and for the herons, as well as Reynard, a few bits
+of dried meat. But for Browser, the moose-calf, she pulled the tender
+twigs and foliage with a lavish hand. When she had given some dainty
+to each of her oddly assorted pets, she sprang up, closed the box, and
+waved her arms in dismissal. The more timid of the creatures obeyed
+her, but some held their ground persistently, hoping for greater
+favors. To these she paid no further attention, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>still keeping
+hold of Reynard&#8217;s neck started back to her human guest.</p>
+
+<p>The fox, however, declined to accompany her. He distrusted strangers
+and it may be had designs of his own upon some other forest wilding.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s the worst of it. We tame them and they love us. But they are
+only conquered, not changed. Isn&#8217;t Reynard beautiful? Doesn&#8217;t he look
+noble? as noble as a St. Bernard dog? If you&#8217;ll believe me, that
+fellow is thoroughly acquainted with every one of Angelique&#8217;s fowls,
+and knows he must never, never touch them, yet he&#8217;d eat one, quick as
+a flash, if he got a chance. He&#8217;s a coward, though; and by his
+cowardice we manage him. Sometimes;&#8221; sighed Margot, who had led the
+way into a little path toward the lake.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How odd! You seem actually grieved at this state of things.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why shouldn&#8217;t I be? I love him and I have a notion that love will do
+anything with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>anybody or anything. I do believe it will, but that I
+haven&#8217;t found just the right way of showing it. Uncle laughs at me, a
+little, but helps me all he can. Indeed, it is he who has tamed most
+of our pets. He says it is the very best way to study natural
+history.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hmm. He intends your education shall be complete!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course. But one thing troubles him. He cannot teach me music. And
+you seem surprised. Aren&#8217;t girls, where you come from, educated?
+Doesn&#8217;t everybody prize knowledge?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That depends. Our girls are educated, of course. They go to college
+and all that, but I think you&#8217;d down any of them in exams. For my own
+part, I ran away just because I did not want this famous &#8216;education&#8217;
+you value. That is, I didn&#8217;t of a certain sort. I wasn&#8217;t fair with you
+awhile ago, you said. I&#8217;d like to tell you my story now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;d like to hear it, of course. But, look <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>yonder! Did you ever see
+anything like that?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot was proud of the surprises she was able to offer this stranger
+in her woods, and pointed outward over the lake. They had just come to
+an open place on the shore and the water spread before them sparkling
+in the sunlight. Something was crossing the smooth surface, heading
+straight for their island, and of a nature to make Adrian cry out:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! for a gun!&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>KING MADOC</h3>
+
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">If</span> you had one you should not use it! Are you a dreadful hunter?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot had turned upon her guest with a defiant fear. As near as she
+had ever come to hating anything she hated the men, of whom she had
+heard, who used this wonderful northland as a murder ground. That was
+what she named it, in her uncompromising judgment of those who killed
+for the sake of killing, for the lust of blood that was in them.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. I reckon I am a &#8216;dreadful&#8217; hunter, for I am a mighty poor shot.
+But I&#8217;d like a try at that fellow. What horns! What a head! And how
+can that fellow in the canoe keep so close to him, yet not finish
+him!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian was so excited he could not stand <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>still. His eyes gleamed, his
+hands clenched, and his whole appearance was changed. Greatly for the
+worse, the girl thought, regarding him with disgust.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Finish him? That&#8217;s King Madoc, Pierre&#8217;s trained bull-moose. You&#8217;d be
+finished yourself, I fear, if you harmed that splendid creature.
+Pierre&#8217;s a lazy fellow, mostly, but he spent a long time teaching
+Madoc, and with his temper&mdash;I&#8217;m thankful you lost your gun.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you never shoot things up here? I saw you giving the fox and
+herons what looked like meat. You had a stew for supper, and fish for
+breakfast. I don&#8217;t mean to be impertinent, but the sight of that big
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">game&mdash;&mdash; Whew!&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. We do kill things, or have them killed, when it is necessary for
+food. Never in sport. Man is almost the only animal who does that.
+It&#8217;s all terrible, seems to me. Everything preys upon something else,
+weaker than itself. Sometimes when I think of it my dinner chokes me.
+It&#8217;s so easy to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>take life, and only God can create it. But uncle says
+it is also God&#8217;s law to take what is provided, and that there is no
+mistake, even if it seems such to me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But there Margot perceived that Adrian was not listening. Instead, he
+was watching, with the intensest interest, the closer approach of the
+canoe, in which sat idle Pierre, holding the reins of a harness
+attached to his aquatic steed. The moose swam easily, with powerful
+strokes, and Pierre was singing a gay melody, richer in his unique
+possession than any king.</p>
+
+<p>When he touched the shore and the great animal stood shaking his wet
+hide, Adrian&#8217;s astonishment found vent in a whirlwind of questions
+that Pierre answered at his leisure and after his kind. But he walked
+first toward Margot and offered a great bunch of trailing arbutus
+flowers, saying:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I saw these just as I pushed off and went back after them. What&#8217;s the
+matter here, that the flag is up? It was the biggest storm <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>I ever
+saw. Yes. A deal of beasties are killed back on the mainland. Any dead
+over here?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I am glad to say, none that we know of. But Snowfoot&#8217;s shed is
+down and uncle is going to build a new one. I hope you&#8217;ve come to
+work.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre laughed and shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But his interest in work was far less than in the stranger whom he now
+answered, and whose presence on Peace Island was a mystery to him.
+Heretofore, the only visitors there had been laborers or traders, but
+this young fellow so near his own age, despite his worn clothing, was
+of another sort. He recognized this, at once, as Margot had done, and
+his curiosity made him ask:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where&#8217;d you come from? Hurricane blow you out the sky?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;About the same. I was lost in the woods and Margot found me and saved
+my life. What&#8217;ll you take for that moose?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;There isn&#8217;t money enough in the state of Maine to buy him!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense. Well, if there was I haven&#8217;t it. But you could get a good
+price for it anywhere.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre looked Adrian over. From his appearance the lad was not likely
+to be possessed of much cash, but the moose-trainer was eager for
+capital, and never missed an opportunity of seeking it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I want to go into the show business. What do you say? would you
+furnish the tents and fixings? And share the profits. I&#8217;m no scholar,
+but maybe you&#8217;d know enough to get out the hand-bills and so on. What
+do you say?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&mdash;<span style="white-space: nowrap;">say&mdash;&mdash;</span> What you mean, Pierre Ricord, keepin&#8217; the master waitin&#8217;,
+your foolishness, and him half sick? What kept you twice as long as
+you ought? Hurry up, now, and put that moose in the cow-yard and get
+to work.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The interruption was caused by Angelique, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>and it was curious to see
+the fear with which she inspired the great fellow, her son. He forgot
+the stranger, the show business, and all his own immediate interests,
+and with the docility of a little child obeyed. Unhitching his odd
+steed, he turned the canoe bottom upward on the beach and hastily led
+the animal toward that part of the island clearing, where Snowfoot
+stood in a little fenced-in lot behind her ruined shed.</p>
+
+<p>Adrian went with him, and asked:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Won&#8217;t those two animals fight?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Won&#8217;t get a chance. When one goes in the other goes out. Here, bossy,
+you can take the range of the island. Get out!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She was more willing to go than Madoc to enter the cramped place, but
+the transfer was made and Adrian lingered by the osier paling, to
+observe at close range this subjugated monarch of the forest.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! for a palette and brush!&#8221; he exclaimed, while Pierre walked away.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What would you do with them?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p><p>Margot had followed the lads and was beside him, though he had not
+heard her footsteps. Now he wheeled about, eager, enthusiastic.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Paint&mdash;as I have never painted before!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh!&mdash;are you an&mdash;artist?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I want to be one. That&#8217;s why I&#8217;m here.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What? What do you mean?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I told you I was a runaway. I didn&#8217;t say &#8216;why,&#8217; before. It&#8217;s truth.
+My people, my&mdash;father&mdash;forced me to college. I hated it. He was
+forcing me to business. I liked art. All my friends were artists. When
+I should have been at the books I was in their studios. They were a
+gay crowd, spent money like water when they had it, merrily starved
+and pinched when they hadn&#8217;t. A few were worse than spendthrifts, and
+with my usual want of sense I made that particular set my intimates. I
+never had any money, though, after it was suspected what my tastes
+were. Except a little that my mother gave me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot was listening breathlessly and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>watching intently. At the
+mention of his mother a shadow crossed Adrian&#8217;s face, softening and
+bettering it, and his whole mood seemed to change.</p>
+
+<p>Their talk drifted from vexing subjects to merry anecdotes of Adrian&#8217;s
+childhood, in the home where he had been the petted only brother of a
+half-dozen elder sisters. But while they laughed and Margot listened,
+her fingers were busy weaving a great garland of wild laurel, and when
+it was finished she rose and said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s getting late. There&#8217;ll be just time to take this to the grave.
+Will you go with me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But this was another of the puzzling things he found at Peace Island.
+In its very loveliest nook was the last resting-place of Cecily
+Romeyn, and the sacred spot was always beautiful with flowers, or in
+the winter, with brilliant berries. Both the master and the girl spoke
+of their dead as if she were still <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>present with them; or at least
+lived as if she were only removed from sight but not from their lives.</p>
+
+<p>When Margot had laid the fresh wreath upon the mound, she carefully
+removed the faded flowers of the day before, and a thought of his own
+mother stirred Adrian&#8217;s heart.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wish I could send a bunch of such blossoms to my mother!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How can you live without her, since she is still alive?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>His face hardened again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You forget. I told you that she, too, turned against me at the last.
+It was a case of husband or son, and she made her choice.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! no. She was unhappy. One may do strange things, then, I suppose.
+But I tell you one thing, if I had either father or mother, anywhere
+in this world, nothing should ever, ever make me leave them. Nothing.
+I would bear anything, do anything, suffer anything&mdash;but I would be
+true <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>to them. I could not forget that I was their child, and if I had
+done wrong to them my whole life would be too short to make
+atonement.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She spoke strongly, as she felt. So early orphaned, she had come to
+think of parents as the most wonderful blessing in the power of God to
+leave one. She loved her Uncle Hugh like a second father, but her
+tenderest dreams were over the pictured faces of her dead.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where is your father buried?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was the simplest, most natural question.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&mdash;don&#8217;t&mdash;know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They stared at one another. It was proof of her childlike acceptance
+of her life that she had never asked. Had never thought to do so,
+even. She had been told that he had &#8220;passed out of sight&#8221; before they
+came to Peace Island and the forest, and had asked no further
+concerning him. Of his character and habits she had heard much. Her
+uncle was never weary in extolling his virtues; but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>of his death he
+had said only what has been written.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But&mdash;I must know right away!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>In her eagerness she ran, and Adrian followed as swiftly. He was sorry
+for his thoughtless inquiry, but regret came too late. He tried to
+call Margot back, but she would not wait.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I must know. I must know right away. Why have I never known before?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Hugh Dutton was resting after a day of study and mental labor, and his
+head leaned easily upon his cushioned chair. Yet as his dear child
+entered his room he held out his arms to draw her to his knee.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;In a minute, uncle. But Adrian has asked me something and it is the
+strangest thing that I cannot answer him. Where is my father buried?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>If she had dealt him a mortal blow he could not have turned more
+white. With a groan that pierced her very heart, he stared at Margot
+with wide, unseeing eyes; then <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>sprang to his feet and fixed upon poor
+Adrian a look that scorched.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You! You?&#8221; he gasped, and sinking back covered his face with his
+hands.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>PERPLEXITIES</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">What</span> had he done?</p>
+
+<p>Ignorant why his simple question should have had such strange results,
+that piercing look made Adrian feel the veriest culprit, and he
+hastened to leave the room and the cabin. Hurrying to the beach he
+appropriated Margot&#8217;s little canvas canoe and pushed out upon the
+lake. From her and Pierre he had learned to handle the light craft
+with considerable skill and he now worked off his excitement by swift
+paddling, so that there was soon a wide distance between him and the
+island.</p>
+
+<p>Then he paused and looked around him, upon as fair a scene as could be
+found in any land. Unbroken forests bounded this hidden Lake
+Profundis, out of whose placid waters <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>rose that mountain-crowned,
+verdure-clad Island of Peace, with its picturesque home, and its
+cultured owner, who had brought into this best of the wilderness the
+best of civilization.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What is this mystery? How am I concerned in it? For I am, and mystery
+there is. It is like that mist over the island, which I can see and
+feel but cannot touch. Pshaw! I&#8217;m getting sentimental, when I ought to
+be turning detective. Yet I couldn&#8217;t do that&mdash;pry into the private
+affairs of a man who&#8217;s treated me so generously. What shall I do? How
+can I go back there? But where else can I go?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>At thought that he might never return to the roof he had quitted, a
+curious homesickness seized him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who&#8217;ll hunt what game they need? Who&#8217;ll catch their fish? Who&#8217;ll keep
+the garden growing? Where can I study the forest and its furry people,
+at first hand, as in the Hollow? And I was doing well. Not as I hope
+to do, but getting on. Margot was a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>merciless critic, but even she
+admitted that my last picture had the look, the spirit of the woods.
+That&#8217;s what I want to do, what Mr. Dutton, also, approved; to bring
+glimpses of these solitudes back to the cities and the thousands who
+can never see them in any other way. Well&mdash;let it go. I can&#8217;t stay and
+be a torment to anybody, and some time, in some other place, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">maybe&mdash;&mdash;</span>
+Ah!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>What he had mistaken for the laughter of a loon was Pierre&#8217;s halloo.
+He was coming back, then, from the mainland where he had been absent
+these past days. Adrian was thankful. There was nothing mysterious or
+perplexing about Pierre, whose rule of life was extremely simple.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pierre first, second, and forever. After Pierre, if there was
+anything left, then&mdash;anybody, the nearest at hand;&#8221; would have
+expressed the situation; but his honest, unblushing selfishness was
+sometimes a relief.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;One always knows just where to find Pierre,&#8221; Margot had said.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p><p>So Adrian&#8217;s answering halloo was prompt, and turning about he watched
+the birch leaving the shadow of the forest and heading for himself. It
+was soon alongside and Ricord&#8217;s excited voice was shouting his good
+news:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Run him up to seven hundred and fifty!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But I thought there wasn&#8217;t money enough anywhere to buy him!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre cocked his dark head on one side and winked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Madoc sick and Madoc well are different.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! you wretch. Would you sell a sick moose and cheat the buyer?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Would I lose such a pile of money for foolishness? I guess not.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But suppose, after you parted with him, he got well?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Again the woodlander grinned and winked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Could you drive the king?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, that&#8217;s all right. I buy him back, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>what you call trade. One do
+that many times, good enough. <span style="white-space: nowrap;">If&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Pierre was silent for some moments, during which Adrian had steadily
+paddled backward to the island, keeping time with the other boat, and
+without thinking what he was doing. But when he did remember, he
+turned to Pierre and asked:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will you take me across the lake again?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What for?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No matter. I&#8217;ll just leave Margot&#8217;s canoe and you do it. There&#8217;s time
+enough.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;ll you give me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pshaw! What can I give you? Nothing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s all right. My mother, she wants the salt,&#8221; and he kicked the
+sack of that valuable article, lying at his feet. &#8220;There. She&#8217;s on the
+bank now and it&#8217;s not she will let me out of sight again, this long
+time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;d go fast enough, for money.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Maybe not. When one has Angelique Ricord for <span style="white-space: nowrap;">m&eacute;re&mdash;&mdash; Umm.&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p><p>But it was less for Pierre than for Adrian that Angelique was waiting,
+and her expression was kinder than common.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Carry that salt to my kitchen cupboard, son, and get to bed. No.
+You&#8217;ve no call to tarry. What the master&#8217;s word is for his guest is
+nothin&#8217; to you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre&#8217;s curiosity was roused. Why had Adrian wanted to leave the
+island at nightfall, since there was neither hunting nor fishing to be
+done? Sport for sport&#8217;s sake, that was forbidden. And what could be
+the message he was not to hear? He meant to learn, and lingered,
+busying himself uselessly in beaching the canoes afresh, after he had
+once carefully turned them bottom side upward; in brushing out
+imaginary dirt, readjusting his own clothing&mdash;a task he did not often
+bother with&mdash;and in general making himself a nuisance to his impatient
+parent.</p>
+
+<p>But, so long as he remained, she kept silence, till unable to hold
+back her rising anger she stole up behind him, unperceived, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>and
+administered a sounding box upon his sizable ears.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Would you? To the cupboard, miserable!&#8221; and Adrian could not repress
+a smile at the meekness with which the great woodlander submitted to
+the little woman&#8217;s authority.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Xanthipp&eacute; and Socrates!&#8221; he murmured, and Pierre heard him. So,
+grimacing at him from under the heavy sack, called back: &#8220;Fifty
+dollar. Tell her fifty dollar.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What he mean by fifty dollar?&#8221; demanded Angelique.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose something about that &#8216;show&#8217; business of his. It is his
+ambition, you know, and I must admit I believe he&#8217;d be a success at
+it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pouf! There is more better business than the &#8216;showin&#8217;&#8217; one, of takin&#8217;
+God&#8217;s beasties into the towns and lettin&#8217; the foolish people stare.
+The money comes that way is not good money.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! yes. It&#8217;s all right, fair Angelique. But what is the word for
+me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;It is: that you come with me, at once, to the master. He will speak
+with you before he sleeps. Yes. And Adrian, lad!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, Angelique?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This is the truth. Remember. When the heart is sore tried the tongue
+is often sharp. There is death. That is a sorrow. God sends it. There
+are sorrows God does not send but the evil one. Death is but joy to
+them. What the master says, answer; and luck light upon your lips.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The lad had never seen the old housekeeper so impressive nor so
+gentle. At the moment it seemed as if she almost liked him, though,
+despite the faithfulness with which she had obeyed her master&#8217;s wishes
+and served him, he had never before suspected it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, Angelique. I am troubled, too, and I will take care that I
+neither say nor resent anything harsh. More than that, I will go away.
+I have stayed too long, already, though I had hoped I was making
+myself useful. Is he in his own study?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Yes, and the little maid is with him. No. There she comes, but she is
+not laughin&#8217;, no. Oh! the broken glass. Scat, Meroude! Why leap upon
+one to scare the breath out, that way? Pst! &#8217;Tis here that tame
+creatures grow wild and wild ones tame. Scat! I say.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot was coming through the rooms, holding Reynard by the collar she
+made him wear whenever he was in the neighborhood of the hen-house,
+and Tom limped listlessly along upon her other side. There was trouble
+and perplexity in the girl&#8217;s face, and Angelique made a great pretense
+of being angry with the cat, to hide that in her own.</p>
+
+<p>But Margot noticed neither her nor Adrian, and sitting down upon the
+threshold dropped her chin in her hands and fixed her eyes upon the
+darkening lake.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, mistress! The beast here at the cabin, and it nightfall? My poor
+fowls!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s leashed, you see, Angelique. And I&#8217;ll lock the poultry up, if
+you like,&#8221; observed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>Adrian. Anything to delay a little an interview from which he shrank
+with something very like that cowardice of which the girl had once
+accused him.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;">
+<img src="images/i107.jpg" class="illogap" width="413" height="500" alt="HER PETS ON EITHER SIDE OF HER" title="" />
+<span class="caption">HER PETS ON EITHER SIDE OF HER</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The housekeeper&#8217;s ready temper flamed, and she laid an ungentle touch
+upon the stranger&#8217;s shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Go, boy. When Master Hugh commands, &#8217;tis not for such as we to
+disobey.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right. I&#8217;m going. And I&#8217;ll remember.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>At the inner doorway he turned and looked back. Margot was still
+sitting, thoughtful and motionless, the firelight from the great
+hearth making a Rembrandt-like silhouette of her slight figure against
+the outer darkness and touching her wonderful hair to a flood of
+silver. Reynard and the eagle, the wild foresters her love had tamed,
+stood guard on either side. It was a picture that appealed to Adrian&#8217;s
+artistic sense and he lingered a little, regarding its &#8220;effects,&#8221; even
+considering what pigments would best convey them.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Adrian!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Angelique. Yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>When the door shut behind him Angelique touched her darling&#8217;s shining
+head, and the toil-stiffened fingers had for it almost a mother&#8217;s
+tenderness.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Sweetheart, the bedtime.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I know. I&#8217;m going. Angelique, my uncle sent me from him to-night. It
+was the first time in all my life that I remember.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Maybe, little stupid, because you&#8217;ve never waited for that, before,
+but were quick enough to see whenever you were not wanted.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&mdash;&mdash; There&#8217;s something wrong and Adrian is the cause of it.
+I&mdash;Angelique, you tell me. Uncle did not hear, or reply, anyway. Where
+is my father buried?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Angelique was prepared and had her answer ready.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Tis not for a servant to reveal what her master hides. No. All will
+come to you in good time. Tarry the master&#8217;s will. But, that silly
+Pierre! What think you? Is it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>fifty dollar would be the price of the
+tame blue herons? Hey?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No. Nor fifty times fifty. Pierre knows that. Love is more than
+money.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Sometimes, to some folks. Well, what would you? That son will be
+havin&#8217; even me, his old mother, in his &#8216;show,&#8217; why not? As a
+cur&#8217;osity&mdash;the only livin&#8217; human bein&#8217; can make that ingrate mind.
+Yes. To bed, my child.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot rose and housed her pets. This threat of Pierre&#8217;s, that he
+would eventually carry off the &#8220;foresters&#8221; and exhibit their
+helplessness to staring crowds, always roused her fiercest
+indignation; and this result was just what Angelique wanted, at
+present, and she murmured her satisfaction:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good. That bee will buzz in her ear till she sleeps, and so sound
+she&#8217;ll hear no dip of the paddle, by and by. Here, Pierre, my son,
+you&#8217;re wanted.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What for now? Do leave me be. I&#8217;m going to bed. I&#8217;m just wore out,
+trot-trottin&#8217; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>from Pontius to Pilate, lugging salt, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">and&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span> he
+finished by yawning most prodigiously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Firs&#8217;-rate sign, that gapin&#8217;. Yes. Sign you&#8217;re healthy and able to do
+all&#8217;s needed. There&#8217;s no bed for you this night. Come. Here. Take this
+basket to the beach. If your canoe needs pitchin&#8217;, pitch it. There&#8217;s
+the lantern. If one goes into the show business he learns right now to
+work and travel o&#8217; nights. Yes. Start. I&#8217;ll follow and explain.&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>DEPARTURE</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">But</span> Adrian need not have dreaded the interview to which his host had
+summoned him. Mr. Dutton&#8217;s face was a little graver than usual but his
+manner was even more kind. He was a man to whom justice seemed the
+highest good, who had himself suffered most bitterly from injustice.
+He was forcing himself to be perfectly fair with the lad and it was
+even with a smile that he motioned toward an easy-chair opposite
+himself. The chair stood in the direct light of the lamp, but Adrian
+did not notice that.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do not fear me, Adrian, though for a moment I forgot myself. For you
+personally&mdash;personally&mdash;I have only great good will. <span style="white-space: nowrap;">But&mdash;&mdash;</span> Will you
+answer my questions, believing that it is a painful necessity which
+compels them?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Certainly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;One word more. Beyond the fact, which you confided to Margot, that
+you were a runaway I know no details of your past life. I have wished
+not to know and have refrained from any inquiries. I must now break
+that silence. What&mdash;is your father&#8217;s name?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke the man&#8217;s hands gripped the arms of his chair more
+tightly, like one prepared for an unpleasant answer.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Malachi Wadislaw.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The questioner waited a moment, during which he seemed to be thinking
+profoundly. Then he rallied his own judgment. It was an uncommon name,
+but there might be two men bearing it. That was not impossible.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where does he live?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Number &mdash;, Madison Avenue, New York.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A longer silence than before, broken by a long drawn: &#8220;A-ah!&#8221; There
+might, indeed, be two men of one name, but not two residing at that
+once familiar locality.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Adrian, when you asked my niece that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>question about her father, did
+you&mdash;had <span style="white-space: nowrap;">you&mdash;&mdash;</span> Tell me what was in your mind.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The lad&#8217;s face showed nothing but frank astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, nothing, sir, beyond an idle curiosity. And I&#8217;m no end sorry for
+my thoughtlessness. I&#8217;ve seen how tenderly you both watch her mother&#8217;s
+grave and I wondered where her father&#8217;s was. That was all. I had no
+business to have done <span style="white-space: nowrap;">it&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It was natural. It was nothing wrong, in itself. But&mdash;unfortunately,
+it suggested to Margot what I have studiously kept from her. For
+reasons which I think best to keep to myself, it is impossible to run
+the risk of other questions which may rouse other speculations in her
+mind. I have been truly glad that she could for a time, at least, have
+the companionship of one nearer her own age than Angelique or me, but
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">now&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>He paused significantly, and Adrian hastened to complete the
+unfinished sentence.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now it is time for her to return to her ordinary <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>way of life. I
+understand you, of course. And I am going away at once. Indeed, I did
+start, not meaning to come back, but&mdash;I will&mdash;how can I do so, sir? If
+I could <span style="white-space: nowrap;">swim&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dutton&#8217;s drawn face softened into something like a smile; and
+again, most gently, he motioned the excited boy to resume his seat. As
+he did so, he opened a drawer of the table and produced a purse that
+seemed to be well filled.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Wait. There is no such haste, nor are you in such dire need as you
+seem to think. You have worked well and faithfully and relieved me of
+much hard labor that I have not, somehow, felt just equal to. I have
+kept an account for you and, if you will be good enough to see if it
+is right, I will hand you the amount due you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He pushed a paper toward Adrian who would not, at first, touch it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You owe me nothing, sir, nor can I take anything. I thank you for
+your hospitality <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>and some <span style="white-space: nowrap;">time&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span> he stopped, choked, and made a
+telling gesture. It said plainly enough that his pride was just then
+deeply humiliated but that he would have his revenge at some future
+day.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Sit down, lad. I do not wonder at your feeling, nor would you at mine
+if you knew all. Under other circumstances we should have been the
+best of friends. It is impossible for me to be more explicit, and it
+hurts my pride as much to bid you go as yours to be sent. Some
+time&mdash;but no matter. What we have in hand is to arrange for your
+departure as speedily and comfortably as possible. I would
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">suggest&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span> but his words had the force of a command&mdash;&#8220;that Pierre
+convey you to the nearest town from which, by stage or railway, you
+can reach any further place you choose. If I were to offer advice, it
+would be to go home. Make your peace there; and then, if you desire a
+life in the woods, seek such with the consent and approval of those to
+whom your duty is due.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p><p>Adrian said nothing at first; then remarked:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pierre need not go so far. Across the lake, to the mainland is
+enough. I can travel on foot afterward, and I know more about the
+forest now than when I lost myself and you, or Margot, found me. I owe
+my life to you. I am sorry I have given you pain. Sorry for many
+things.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There are few who have not something to regret; for anything that has
+happened here no apology is necessary. As for saving life, that was by
+God&#8217;s will. Now&mdash;to business. You will see that I have reckoned your
+wages the same as Pierre&#8217;s: thirty dollars a month and &#8216;found,&#8217; as the
+farmers say, though it has been much more difficult to find him than
+you. You have been here nearly three months and eighty dollars is
+yours.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Eighty dollars! Whew! I mean, impossible. In the first place I
+haven&#8217;t earned it; in the second, I couldn&#8217;t take it from&mdash;from
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>you&mdash;if I had. How could a man take money from one who had saved his
+life?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Easily, I hope, if he has common sense. You exaggerate the service we
+were able to do you, which we would have rendered to anybody. Your
+earnings will start you straight again. Take them, and oblige me by
+making no further objections.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Despite his protests, which were honest, Adrian could not but be
+delighted at the thought of possessing so goodly a sum. It was the
+first money he had ever earned, therefore better than any other ever
+could be, and as he put it, in his own thoughts: &#8220;it changed him from
+a beggar to a prince.&#8221; Yet he made a final protest, asking:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Have I really, really, and justly earned all this? Do you surely mean
+it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am not in the habit of saying anything I do not mean. It is getting
+late, and if you are to go to-night, it would be better to start
+soon,&#8221; answered Mr. Dutton, with a frown.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Beg pardon. But I&#8217;m always saying <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>what I should not, or putting the
+right things backward. There are some affairs &#8216;not mentioned in the
+bond&#8217;: my artist&#8217;s outfit, these clothes, boots, and other matters. I
+want to pay the cost of them. Indeed, I must. You must allow me, as
+you would any other man.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The woodlander hesitated a moment as if he were considering. He would
+have preferred no return for anything, but again that effort to be
+wholly just influenced him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;For the clothing, if you so desire, certainly. Here, in this account
+book, is a price list of all such articles as I buy. We will deduct
+that much. But I hope, in consideration of the pleasure that your
+talent has given me, that you will accept the painting stuff I so
+gladly provided. If you choose, also, you may leave a small gift for
+Angelique. Come. Pride is commendable, but not always.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very well. Thank you, then, for your gift. Now, the price list.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It had been a gratification to Mr. Dutton that Adrian had never worn
+the suits of clothing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>which he had laid out ready for use, on that
+morning after his arrival at the island. The lad had preferred the
+rougher costume suited to the woods and still wore it.</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments the small business transactions were settled, and
+Adrian rose.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I would like to bid Margot good-bye. But, I suppose, she has gone to
+bed.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. I will give her your message. There is always a pain in parting
+and you two have been much together. I would spare her as much as I
+can. Angelique has packed a basket of food and Pierre is on the beach
+with his canoe. He may go as far with you as you desire, and you must
+pay him nothing for his service. He is already paid, though his greed
+might make him despoil you, if he could. Good-bye. I wish you well.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dutton had also risen, and as he moved forward into the lamplight
+Adrian noticed how much altered for the worse was his physical
+bearing. The man seemed to have aged by many years and his fine head
+was now <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>snow-white. He half extended his hand, in response to the
+lad&#8217;s proffered clasp, then dropped it to his side. He hoped that the
+departing guest had not observed this inhospitable movement&mdash;but he
+had. Possibly, it helped him over an awkward moment, by touching his
+pride afresh.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-bye, sir, and again&mdash;thank you. For the present, that is all I
+can do. Yet I have heard it was not so big a world, after all, and my
+chance may come. I&#8217;ll get my traps from my room, if you please, and
+one or two little drawings as souvenirs. I&#8217;ll not be long.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Fifteen minutes later Pierre was paddling vigorously toward the
+further side of the lake and Adrian was straining his eyes for the
+last glimpse of the beautiful island which even now, in his banishment
+from it, seemed his real and beloved home. It became a vague and
+shadowy outline, as silent as the stars that brooded over it; and
+again he marveled what the mystery might be which enshrouded it, and
+why he should be connected with it.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Now that I am no longer its guest, there is no dishonor in my finding
+out; and find out&mdash;I will!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hey?&#8221; asked Pierre, so suddenly, that Adrian jumped and nearly upset
+the boat. &#8220;Oh! I thought you said somethin&#8217;. Say, ain&#8217;t this a go?
+What you done that make the master shut the door on you? I never knew
+him do it before. Hey?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nothing. Keep quiet. I don&#8217;t feel like talking.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pr-r-r-rp! Look a here, young fello&#8217;. Me and you&#8217;s alone on this dead
+water and I can swim&mdash;you can&#8217;t. I&#8217;ve got all I expect to get out the
+trip and I&#8217;ve no notion o&#8217; makin&#8217; it. Not &#8217;less things go to my
+thinkin&#8217;. Now, I&#8217;ll rest a spell. You paddle!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>With that, he began to rock the frail craft violently and Adrian&#8217;s
+attention was recalled to the necessity of saving his own life.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>A DISCLOSURE</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">As</span> the sun rose, Margot came out of her own room, fresh from her
+plunge that had washed all drowsiness away, as the good sleep had also
+banished all perplexities. Happy at all times, she was most so at
+morning, when, to her nature-loving eyes, the world seemed to have
+been made anew and doubly beautiful. The gay little melodies she had
+picked up from Pierre, or Angelique&mdash;who had been a sweet singer in
+her day&mdash;and now again from Adrian, were always on her lips at such an
+hour, and were dear beyond expression to her uncle&#8217;s ears.</p>
+
+<p>But this morning she seemed to be singing them to the empty air. There
+was nobody in the living room, nor in the &#8220;study-library,&#8221; as the
+housekeeper called the room <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>of books, nor even in the kitchen. That
+was oddest of all! For there, at least, should Angelique have been,
+frying, or stewing, or broiling, as the case might be. Yet the coffee
+stood simmering, at one corner of the hearth and a bowl of eggs waited
+ready for the omelet which Angelique could make to perfection.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, how still it is! As if everybody had gone away and left the
+island alone.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She ran to the door and called: &#8220;Adrian!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>No answer.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pierre! Angelique! Where is everybody?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Then she saw Angelique coming down the slope and ran to meet her. With
+one hand the woman carried a brimming pail of milk and with the other
+dragged by his collar the reluctant form of Reynard, who appeared as
+guilty and subdued as if he had been born a slave not free. To make
+matters more difficult, Meroude was surreptitiously helping herself to
+a breakfast from the pail <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>and thereby ruining its contents for other
+uses.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! the plague of a life with such beasts! And him the worst o&#8217; they
+all. The ver&#8217; next time my Pierre goes cross-lake, that fox goes or I
+do! There&#8217;s no room on the island for the two of us. No. Indeed no.
+The harm comes of takin&#8217; in folks and beasties and friendin&#8217; them &#8217;at
+don&#8217;t deserve it. What now, think you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot had run the faster, as soon as she descried poor Reynard&#8217;s
+abject state, and had taken him under her own protection, which
+immediately restored him to his natural pride and noble bearing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think nothing evil of my pet, believe that! See the beauty now!
+That&#8217;s the difference between harsh words and loving ones. If you&#8217;d
+only treat the &#8216;beasties&#8217; as well as you do me, Angelique dear, you&#8217;d
+have less cause for scolding. What I think now is&mdash;speckled rooster.
+Right?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Aye. Dead as dead; and the feathers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>still stickin&#8217; to the villain&#8217;s
+jaws. What&#8217;s the life of such brutes to that o&#8217; good fowls? Pst!
+Meroude! Scat! Well, if it&#8217;s milk you will, milk you shall!&#8221; and,
+turning angrily about, Snowfoot&#8217;s mistress dashed the entire contents
+of her pail over the annoying cat.</p>
+
+<p>Margot laughed till the tears came. &#8220;Why, Angelique! only the other
+day, in that quaint old &#8216;Book of Beauty&#8217; uncle has, I read how a Queen
+of Naples, and some noted Parisian beauties, used baths of milk for
+their complexions; but poor Meroude&#8217;s a hopeless case, I fear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Angelique&#8217;s countenance took on a grim expression. &#8220;Mistress Meroude&#8217;s
+got a day&#8217;s job to clean herself, the greedy. It&#8217;s not her nose&#8217;ll go
+in the pail another mornin&#8217;. No. No, indeed.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And it was so full. Yet that&#8217;s the same Snowfoot who was to give us
+no more, because of the broken glass. Angelique, where&#8217;s uncle?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;How should I tell? Am I set to spy the master&#8217;s ins and outs?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Funny Angelique! You&#8217;re not set to do it, but you can usually tell
+them. And where&#8217;s Adrian? I&#8217;ve called and called, but nobody answers.
+I can&#8217;t guess where they all are. Even Pierre is out of sight, and
+he&#8217;s mostly to be found at the kitchen door when meal time comes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There, there, child. You can ask more questions than old Angelique
+can answer. But the breakfast. That&#8217;s a good thought. So be. Whisk in
+and mix the batter cakes for the master&#8217;s eatin&#8217;. &#8217;Tis he, foolish
+man, finds they have better savor from Margot&#8217;s fingers than mine.
+Simple one, with all his wisdom.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s love gives them savor, sweet Angelique! and the desire to see me
+a proper housewife. I wonder why he cares about that, since you are
+here to do such things.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah! The &#8216;I wonders!&#8217; and the &#8216;Is its?&#8217; of a maid! They set the head
+awhirl. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>batter cakes, my child. I see the master comin&#8217; down the
+hill this minute.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot paused long enough to caress Tom, the eagle, who met her on the
+path, then sped indoors, leaving Reynard to his own devices and
+Angelique&#8217;s not too tender mercies. But she put all her energy into
+the task assigned her and proudly placed a plate of her uncle&#8217;s
+favorite dainty before him when he took his seat at table. Till then
+she had not noticed its altered arrangement, and even her guardian&#8217;s
+coveted: &#8220;Well done, little housekeeper!&#8221; could not banish the sudden
+fear that assailed her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, what does it mean? Where is Adrian? Where Pierre? Why are only
+dishes for three?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pst! my child! Hast been askin&#8217; questions in the sleep? Sure, you
+have ever since your eyes flew open. Say your grace and eat your meat,
+and let the master rest.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, darling. Angelique is wise. Eat <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>your breakfast as usual, and
+afterward I will tell you all&mdash;that you should know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But, I cannot eat. It chokes me. It seems so awfully still and
+strange and empty. As I should think it might be, were somebody dead.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Angelique&#8217;s scant patience was exhausted. Not only was her loyal heart
+tried by her master&#8217;s troubles, but she had had added labor to
+accomplish. During all that summer two strong and, at least one,
+willing lads had been at hand to do the various chores pertaining to
+all country homes, however isolated. That morning she had brought in
+her own supply of fire-wood, filled her buckets from the spring,
+attended the poultry, fed the oxen, milked Snowfoot, wrestled over the
+iniquity of Reynard and grieved at the untimely death of the speckled
+rooster: &#8220;When he would have made such a lovely fricasee, yes. Indeed,
+&#8217;twas a sinful waste!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Though none of these tasks were new or arduous to her, she had not
+performed them <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>during the past weeks, save and except the care of her
+cow. That she had never entrusted to anybody, not even the master; and
+it was to spare him that she had done some of the things he meant to
+attend to later. Now she had reached her limit.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Angelique wants her breakfast, child. She has been long astir. After
+that the deluge!&#8221; quoted Mr. Dutton, with an attempt at lightness
+which did not agree with his real depression.</p>
+
+<p>Margot made heroic efforts to act as usual but they ended in failure,
+and as soon as might be her guardian pushed back his chair and she
+promptly did the same.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now I can ask as many questions as I please, can&#8217;t I? First, where
+are they?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They have gone across the lake, southward, I suppose. Toward whatever
+place or town Adrian selects. He will not come back but Pierre will do
+so, after he has guided the other to some safe point beyond the woods.
+How soon I do not know, of course.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Gone! Without bidding me good-bye? Gone to stay? Oh! uncle, how could
+he? I know you didn&#8217;t like him but I did. He <span style="white-space: nowrap;">was&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Margot dropped her face in her hands and sobbed bitterly. Then ashamed
+of her unaccustomed tears she ran out of the house and as far from it
+as she could. But even the blue herons could give her no amusement,
+though they stalked gravely up the river bank and posed beside her,
+where she lay prone and disconsolate in Harmony Hollow. Her squirrels
+saw and wondered, for she had no returning chatter for them, even when
+they chased one another over her prostrate person and playfully pulled
+at her long hair.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He was the only friend I ever had that was not old and wise in
+sorrow. It was true he seemed to bring a shadow with him and while he
+was here I sometimes wished he would go, or had never come; yet now
+that he has&mdash;oh! it&#8217;s so awfully, awfully lonesome. Nobody to talk
+with about my dreams and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>fancies, nobody to talk nonsense, nobody to
+teach me any more songs&mdash;nobody but just old folks and animals! And he
+went, he went without a word or a single good-bye!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was, indeed, Margot&#8217;s first grief; and the fact that her late
+comrade could leave her so coolly, without even mentioning his plan,
+hurt her very deeply. But, after awhile, resentment at Adrian&#8217;s
+seeming neglect almost banished her loneliness; and, sitting up, she
+stared at Xanthipp&eacute;, poised on one leg before her, apparently asleep
+but really waiting for anything which might turn up in the shape of
+dainties.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! you sweet vixen! but you needn&#8217;t pose. There&#8217;s no artist here now
+to sketch you, and I don&#8217;t care, not very much, if there isn&#8217;t. After
+all my trying to do him good, praising and blaming and petting, if he
+was impolite enough to go as he <span style="white-space: nowrap;">did&mdash;&mdash;</span> Well, no matter!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>While this indignation lasted she felt better, but as soon as she came
+once more in sight of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>the clearing and of her uncle finishing one of
+Adrian&#8217;s uncompleted tasks, her loneliness returned with double force.
+It had almost the effect of bodily illness and she had no experience
+to guide her. With a fresh burst of tears she caught her guardian&#8217;s
+hand and hid her face on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! it&#8217;s so desolate. So empty. Everything&#8217;s so changed. Even the
+Hollow is different and the squirrels seem like strangers. If he had
+to go, why did he ever, ever come!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, indeed!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dutton was surprised and frightened by the intensity of her grief.
+If she could sorrow in this way for a brief friendship, what untold
+misery might not life have in store for her? There must have been some
+serious blunder in his training if she were no better fitted than this
+to face trouble; and for the first time it occurred to him that he
+should not have kept her from all companions of her own age.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Margot!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The sternness of his tone made her look up and calm herself.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Y-es, uncle.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This must stop. Adrian went by my invitation. Because I could no
+longer permit your association. Between his household and ours is a
+wrong beyond repair. He cannot help that he is his father&#8217;s son, but
+being such he is an impossible friend for your father&#8217;s daughter. I
+should have sent him away, at my very first suspicion of his identity,
+but&mdash;I want to be just. It has been the effort of my life to learn
+forgiveness. Until the last I would not allow myself even to believe
+who he was, but gave him the benefit of the chance that his name might
+be of another family. When I did know&mdash;there was no choice. He had to
+go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot watched his face, as he spoke, with a curious feeling that this
+was not the loved and loving uncle she had always known but a
+stranger. There were wrinkles and scars she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>had never noticed, a
+bitterness that made the voice an unfamiliar one, and a weariness in
+the droop of the figure leaning upon the hoe which suggested an aged
+and heart-broken man.</p>
+
+<p>Why, only yesterday, it seemed, Hugh Dutton was the very type of a
+stalwart woodlander, with the grace of a finished and untiring
+scholar, making the man unique. <span style="white-space: nowrap;">Now&mdash;&mdash;</span> If Adrian had done this thing,
+if his mere presence had so altered her beloved guardian, then let
+Adrian go! Her arms went around the man&#8217;s neck and her kisses showered
+upon his cheeks, his hands, even his bent white head.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Uncle, uncle! Don&#8217;t look like that! Don&#8217;t. He&#8217;s gone and shall never
+come back. Everything&#8217;s gone, hasn&#8217;t it? Even that irreparable past,
+of which I&#8217;d never heard. Why, if I&#8217;d dreamed, do you suppose I&#8217;d even
+ever have spoken to him? No, indeed. Why you, the tip of your smallest
+finger, the smallest lock of your hair, is worth more than a thousand
+Adrians! I was sorry he&#8217;d treated me so rudely. But now I&#8217;m glad,
+glad, glad. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>I wouldn&#8217;t listen to him now, not if he said good-bye
+forever and ever. I love you, uncle, best of all the world, and you
+love me. Let&#8217;s be just as we were before any strangers came. Come,
+let&#8217;s go out on the lake.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He smiled at her extravagance and abruptness. The times when they had
+gone canoeing together had been their merriest, happiest times. It
+seemed to her that it needed only some such outing to restore the
+former conditions of their life.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not to-day, dearest.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why not? The potatoes won&#8217;t hurt and it&#8217;s so lovely.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There are other matters, more important than potatoes. I have put
+them off too long. Now&mdash;Margot, do you love me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why&mdash;uncle!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Because there is somebody whom you must love even more dearly. Your
+father.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My&mdash;father! My father? Of course; though he is dead.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, Margot. He is still alive.&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>CARRYING</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Pierre&#8217;s</span> ill-temper was short-lived, but his curiosity remained.
+However, when Adrian steadily refused to gratify it his interest
+returned to himself.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Say, I&#8217;ve a mind to go the whole way.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Wherever you&#8217;re going. Nothin&#8217; to call me back.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Madoc?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We might take him along.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not if he&#8217;s sick. That would be as cruel to him as troublesome to us.
+Besides, you need go no further than yonder shore.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Them&#8217;s the woods you got lost in.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I know them better now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Couldn&#8217;t find your road to save your life.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;I think I could. Besides, you will be wanted at the island. I don&#8217;t
+think Mr. Dutton is a well man. With nobody but an old woman and a
+young girl he&#8217;ll need somebody. You&#8217;re not much good, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">still&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Pierre laughed. They had about reached the forest and he rested his
+paddle.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You hear me. I&#8217;m going to where you go. That was the master&#8217;s word. I
+wouldn&#8217;t dare not do it. If I did, my mother&#8217;d make me sorry. So
+that&#8217;s settled.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian had doubts as to the truth of this statement of the islander&#8217;s
+commands. He recalled the words: &#8220;as far as you desire.&#8221; After all,
+this was not setting a time limit, and it was perfectly natural that
+anybody should like company through the wilderness. Why, it would be a
+wild, adventurous journey! the very sort of which he had dreamed
+before he had tasted the prosaic routine of the lumber-camp. He had
+his colors and brushes, the birch-bark which served so many forest
+purposes should be his canvas, they had food, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>and Pierre, at least,
+his gun and ammunition&mdash;no lad could have protested further.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right. It will be a lark after my own heart. We can quit as soon
+as we&#8217;re tired of it; and&mdash;look here. Mr. Dutton said you were paid to
+take me to the nearest town. How far is that? How long to get there?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! I don&#8217;t know. Donovan&#8217;s nighest. Might go in four days&mdash;might a
+week. Canada&#8217;s closer, but you don&#8217;t want to go north. South, he
+said.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ye-es. I suppose so. Fact is, I don&#8217;t care where I go nor when. I&#8217;m
+in no hurry. As long as the money and food hold out, I&#8217;m satisfied.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Speakin&#8217; of money. I couldn&#8217;t afford to waste my time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian laughed at this sudden change of front. It was Pierre who had
+proposed the long road, but at the mention of money had remembered
+prudence.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s all right, too. It was of that I was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>thinking, you greedy
+fellow. What do guides get, here in the woods?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre stepped ashore, carefully beached his canoe, and as carefully
+considered his reply before he made it. How much did this city lad
+know? Either at camp or on the island had he heard the just rates of
+such service?</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well&mdash;how much you got?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m asking a question, not you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;About four dollars, likely.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Whew! not much. You can get the best of them for two. I&#8217;ll give you a
+dollar a day when we&#8217;re resting and one-fifty when we&#8217;re traveling.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian was smiling in the darkness at his own sudden thrift. He had
+taken a leaf out of his comrade&#8217;s own book, and beyond that, he almost
+loved his precious earnings, so soon as the thought came of parting
+with them. He instantly resolved to put aside a ten dollar piece to
+take the &#8220;mater,&#8221; whenever he should see her. The rest he would use,
+of course, but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>not waste. He would paint such pictures up here as
+would make his old artist friends and the critics open their eyes. The
+very novelty of the material which should embody them would &#8220;take.&#8221;
+Already, in imagination, he saw dozens of fascinating &#8220;bits&#8221; hung on
+the line at the old Academy, and felt the marvelous sums they brought
+swelling his pockets to bursting. He&#8217;d be the rage, the hit of the
+next season; and what pride he&#8217;d have in sending newspaper notices of
+himself to Peace Island! How Margot would open her blue eyes, and
+Angelique toss her hands, and the master slowly admit that there was
+genius where he had estimated only talent.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s such a wide, wide difference in the two!&#8221; cried Adrian,
+aloud.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hey? What?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The dreamer came back to reality, and to Pierre, demanding,</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Make it one-seventy-five, and I&#8217;ll do it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well. I will. Now, for to-night. Shall we camp right here or go
+further into the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>forest? In the woods I&#8217;m always ready for bed, and
+its later than usual now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Here. I know the very rocks you got under in that storm. They&#8217;ll do
+as good as a tent, and easier.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian, also, knew that spot and in a few moments both lads were
+asleep. They had not stopped even to build the fire that was customary
+in such quarters.</p>
+
+<p>Pierre was awake first, on the next morning, and Adrian slowly rose,
+stretching his cramped limbs and yawning widely.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I must say that Angelique&#8217;s good mattress beats rocks. You
+don&#8217;t catch me doing that again. I guess I&#8217;ll walk down to the water
+and have a last look at the island.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I guess you won&#8217;t. You&#8217;ll eat your breakfast right now. Then you&#8217;ll
+fix that birch for the carry. If I do the heavy work you&#8217;ve got to do
+the light.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Sounds fair enough, but you&#8217;re paid and I&#8217;m not.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is fair.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p><p>Adrian did not contest the point; the less readily because he saw that
+the fried chicken Angelique had given them was rapidly diminishing in
+quantity.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Think I&#8217;ll fall to, myself. My, but I&#8217;m hungry! Wish I had a cup of
+coffee.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Can&#8217;t waste time now. We&#8217;ll have some to-night.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did they give us some?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Look in the pack.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;After breakfast, I&#8217;ll oblige you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre grinned and helped himself to a wing.</p>
+
+<p>Adrian seized the tin basin which held the fowl and placed it behind
+himself. &#8220;Enough&#8217;s as good as a feast. We shall be hungry again. See
+here. What kind of a bird was this? or birds? all legs and arms, no
+bodies. Freaks of nature. Eh? How many breast portions have you
+devoured?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Three.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! Then, travel or no travel, you get no wage this day. Understand.
+I&#8217;m commander <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>of this expedition. I see to the commissariat. I&#8217;ll
+overhaul the pack, and take account of stock.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre assisted at the task. Though he had been impatient to get away
+from that locality, still too dangerously near his mother&#8217;s rule, he
+intended to keep an eye on everything. Paid or not paid, as Adrian
+fared so would he&mdash;only rather better.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, they must have thought we would be in the woods a long time.
+They were certainly generous.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They had been, but Pierre considered that they might have been more
+so.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This was for both trips. Half is mine.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense. But&mdash;there. We&#8217;re not going to squabble all the time, like
+children. And we both know exactly what we have to depend on. We must
+fish and <span style="white-space: nowrap;">shoot&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How&#8217;ll you do that? The only gun is mine.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s part of the outfit. Let&#8217;s see. A little good tent cloth&mdash;not big
+enough to cover any <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>but good-natured folks&mdash;salt pork, beans, sugar,
+coffee, tea, flour, meal, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">dishes&mdash;&mdash;</span> Hello! We&#8217;re kings, Ricord!
+Monarchs of Maine.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Cut the splints.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>After all, it seemed to be Pierre who did the ordering, but Adrian had
+sense to see that he was the wiser of the two in woodcraft; even
+though he himself had made it a study during the last weeks. He seized
+the axe and attacked a cedar-tree, from which he had soon cut the
+binding strips he wanted. Then he laid the paddles in the boat,
+fastening them with rootlets to the three thwarts. He also fastened
+two broad bands of the pliable splints in such a way that when it was
+inverted, the weight of the canoe could be borne in part by the
+forehead and shoulders. He was ready almost as soon as Pierre had
+retied the pack, which was to be Adrian&#8217;s burden.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right! I&#8217;ll swing her up. This &#8216;carry&#8217; isn&#8217;t a long one and the
+first thoroughfare is ten miles before we come to dead <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>water. But
+it&#8217;s up-stream that far and we&#8217;ll have to warp up some. Part is fair,
+but more is rips.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>If Pierre thought to confound his mate by his woodland slang he was
+disappointed. Margot had been a good teacher and Adrian had been eager
+to learn what he had not already done from the loggers. Pierre had
+been puzzled by &#8220;commissariat&#8221; and &#8220;expedition&#8221; and felt that he had
+evened matters nicely.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! I know. A thoroughfare is a river, and a dead water is a lake.
+And a carrier is&mdash;yourself!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>To show his new skill he caught up the canoe and inverted it over his
+own head. He, also, had been calculating a bit, and realized that the
+birch was really the lighter burden. So he generously left the pack to
+his neighbor and started forward bravely.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right, like you say. One little bit, then you change. Then, too,
+maybe I&#8217;m not ready.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p><p>With a whistle and spring Pierre hoisted the pack to his shoulders,
+wound its straps around his body and started off through the forest at
+a sort of dog-trot pace, pausing neither for swamp nor fallen tree;
+and Adrian realized that if he were to keep his companion in sight he
+must travel equally fast.</p>
+
+<p>Alas! this was impossible. The birch which had seemed so light and
+romantic a &#8220;carry&#8221; became suddenly the heaviest and most difficult. He
+caught its ends on tree trunks and righting these blunders he stumbled
+over the rough way. The thongs that had seemed so smooth cut his
+forehead and burned into his chest, and putting pride in his pocket,
+he shouted:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pierre! Pierre Ricord! Come back or you&#8217;ll get no money!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It would have been a convincing argument had it been heard, but it was
+not. Pierre had already gone too far in advance. Yet at that moment a
+sound was borne on the breeze toward Adrian which effectually banished
+all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>thought of fatigue or of ill-treatment. A long-drawn,
+unmistakable cry that once heard no man with the hunter instinct ever
+forgets.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A moose! And Pierre has the gun!&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>A DEAD WATER TRAGEDY</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">But</span> Pierre, also, had heard that distant &#8220;Ugh-u-u-ugh!&#8221; and instantly
+paused. His own anxiety was lest Adrian should not hear and be still.
+Fortunately, the wind was in their favor and the sensitive nostrils of
+the moose less apt to scent them. Having listened a moment, he dropped
+his pack so softly that, heavy as it was, it scarcely made the
+undergrowth crack. His gun was always loaded and now making it ready
+for prompt use, he started back toward his companion. The Indian in
+his nature came to the fore. His step was alert, precise, and light as
+that of any four-footed forester. When within sight of the other lad,
+listening and motionless, his eye brightened.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If he keeps that way, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">maybe&mdash;&mdash; Ah!&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p><p>The moose called again, but further off. This was a disappointment,
+but they were on good ground for hunting and another chance would
+come. Meanwhile they would better make all haste to the thoroughfare.
+There would be the better place, and out in the canoe they&#8217;d have a
+wider range.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Here, you. Give me the boat. Did you hear it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did I not? But you had the gun!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Wouldn&#8217;t have made any difference if you&#8217;d had it. Too far off. Let&#8217;s
+get on.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian lifted the pack and dropped it in disgust. &#8220;I can&#8217;t carry that
+load!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre was also disgusted&mdash;by the other&#8217;s ignorance and lack of
+endurance.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What you don&#8217;t know about the woods beats all. Haven&#8217;t you seen
+anybody pack things before? I&#8217;ll show you. When there&#8217;s big game handy
+is no time to quarrel. If a pack&#8217;s too heavy, halve it. Watch and
+learn something.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre could be both swift and dexterous if <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>he chose, and he rapidly
+unrolled and divided the contents of the cotton tent. Putting part
+into the blanket he retied the rest in the sheeting, and now neither
+bundle was a very severe tax.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Whew! What&#8217;s the sense of that? It&#8217;s the same weight. How does
+halving it help?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre swung the canoe upon his head and directed:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Catch hold them straps. Carry one a few rods. Drop it. Come back
+after the other. Carry that a ways beyond the first. Drop it. Get
+number one. All time lap over, beyond, over, beyond. So.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>With a stick he illustrated on the ground, and wasting no further time
+nor speech, clasped his gun the tighter under his arm and trotted
+forward again.</p>
+
+<p>Adrian obeyed instructions, and though it seemed, at first, a waste to
+go back and forth along the carry as he had been directed, found that,
+in the end, he had accomplished his task with small fatigue or delay.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Another bit of woodcraft for my knowledge box. Useful elsewhere, too.
+Wish I could get through this country as fast as Pierre does. But
+he&#8217;ll have to wait for me, anyway.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>For a time Adrian could easily trace the route of his guide by the
+bruises the canoe had given the leaves and undergrowth but after
+awhile the forest grew more open and this trail was lost. Then he
+stopped to consider. He had no intention of losing himself again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We are aiming for the south. Good. All the big branches of these
+hemlocks point that way&mdash;so yonder&#8217;s my road. Queer, too, how mossy
+the tree trunks are on the north sides. I&#8217;ve heard that you could drop
+an Indian anywhere in any forest and he&#8217;d travel to either point of
+the compass he desired with nothing to guide him but his instinct.
+Wish I were an Indian! Wish, rather, I had my own compass and good
+outfit that went over in my canoe. Hurrah! <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>There&#8217;s a glimmer of
+water. That&#8217;s the thoroughfare. Now a dash for it!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian was proud of his new skill in finding his own way through a
+trackless forest, but though he duly reached the stream he could not
+for a time see anything of Pierre. He did not wish to shout, lest the
+moose might be near and take fright, but at last he did give a faint
+halloo and an answer came at once. Then the boat shot out from behind
+a clump of alders and made down the river toward him.</p>
+
+<p>The current was swift and strong and there was considerable poling to
+be done before it touched the shore and Pierre stepped out.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve been looking round. This is as good a place to camp to-night as
+we&#8217;ll find. Leave the things here, and might as well get ready now.
+Then we can stay out all day and come back when we like.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But I thought we were to go on up the thoroughfare. Why stop here at
+all? Other camping places are easy to find.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Are they? My, you can ask questions. Good many things go to making
+right sort of camp. Dry ground, good water to drink, fire-wood,
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">poles&mdash;&mdash;</span> Oh! shucks! If you don&#8217;t know, keep still and learn.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This was excellent advice and Adrian was tired. He decided to trust to
+the other lad&#8217;s common sense and larger experience, and having so
+decided, calmly stretched himself out upon the level bank of the
+stream and went to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Pierre&#8217;s temper rose still higher and after he had endured the sight
+of Adrian&#8217;s indolence as long as possible he stepped to the river and
+dipped a bucket of water. Then he returned and quietly dashed it over
+the drowsy lad. The effect was all that Pierre desired.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What did you do that for?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Take this axe and get to work. I&#8217;ve chopped long enough. It&#8217;s my turn
+to rest. Or would be, only I&#8217;m after moose.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian realized that he had given cause for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>offense and laughed
+good-naturedly. His nap had rested him much more than his broken sleep
+of the night under the rocks, and the word &#8220;moose&#8221; had an inspiration
+all its own.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve cut the fire-wood. You get poles for the tent. I&#8217;ll get things
+ready for supper.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian laid his hand dramatically upon his stomach. &#8220;I&#8217;ve an inner
+conviction already that dinner precedes supper.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Cut, can&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Cut, it is.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments he had chopped down a few slender poles, and
+selecting two with forked branches he planted these upright on a
+little rise of the driest ground. Across the notches he laid a third
+pole, and over this he stretched their strip of sheeting. When this
+was pegged down at a convenient angle at the back and also secured at
+the ends, they had a very comfortable shelter from the dew and
+possible rain. The affair was open on one side and before this Pierre
+had heaped <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>the wood for the fire when they should return after the
+day&#8217;s hunt. Together they cut and spread the spruce and hemlock boughs
+for their bed, arranging them in overlapping rows, with an added
+quantity for pillows. Wrapped in their blankets, for even at midsummer
+these were not amiss, they hoped to sleep luxuriously.</p>
+
+<p>They stored their food in as safe a spot as possible, though Pierre
+said that nothing would molest it, unless it might be a hungry
+hedgehog, but Adrian preferred to take no risks. Then with knives
+freshly sharpened on the rocks, and the gun in hand, they cautiously
+stepped into the canoe and pushed off.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;One should not jump into a birch. Easiest thing in the world to split
+the bottom,&#8221; its owner had explained.</p>
+
+<p>Adrian had no desire to do anything that would hinder their success,
+therefore submitted to his guide&#8217;s dictation with a meekness that
+would have amused Margot.</p>
+
+<p>She would not have been amused by their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>undertaking nor its but
+half-anticipated results. After a long and difficult warping-up the
+rapids, in which Adrian&#8217;s skill at using the sharp-pointed pole that
+helped to keep the canoe off the rocks surprised Ricord, they reached
+a dead water, with low, rush-dotted banks.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Get her into that cove yonder, and keep still. I&#8217;ve brought some bark
+and&#8217;ll make a horn.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There, while they rested and listened, Pierre deftly rolled his strip
+of birch-bark into a horn of two feet in length, small at the mouth
+end but several inches wide at the other. He tied it with cedar thongs
+and putting it to his lips, uttered a call so like a cow-moose that
+Adrian wondered more and more.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hmm. I thought I was pretty smart, myself; but I&#8217;ll step down when
+you take the stand.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Sh-h-h! Don&#8217;t move. Don&#8217;t speak. Don&#8217;t breathe, if you can help it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian became rigid, all his faculties <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>merged in that one desire to
+lose no sound.</p>
+
+<p>Again Pierre gave the moose-call, and&mdash;hark! what was that? An
+answering cry, a far-away crashing of boughs, the onrush of some big
+creature, hastening to its mate.</p>
+
+<p>Noiselessly Pierre brought his gun into position, sighting one distant
+point from which he thought his prey would come. Adrian&#8217;s body dripped
+with a cold sweat, his hands trembled, specks floated before his
+staring eyes, every nerve was tense, and, as Margot would have said,
+he was a-thrill &#8220;with murder,&#8221; from head to foot! Oh! if the gun were
+his, and the shot!</p>
+
+<p>Another call, another cry, and a magnificent head came into view. With
+horns erect and quivering nostrils the monarch of that wilderness
+came, seeking love, and faced his enemies.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s within range&mdash;shoot!&#8221; whispered Adrian.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Only anger him that way. &#8217;Sh! When he <span style="white-space: nowrap;">turns&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bang! bang&mdash;bang!&#8221; in swift succession.</p>
+
+<p>The great horns tossed, the noble head came round again, then bent,
+wavered and disappeared. The tragedy was over.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I got him! I got him that time! Always shoot that way, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">never&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Pierre picked up his paddle and sent the canoe forward at a leap. When
+there came no responding movement from his companion he looked back
+over his shoulder. Adrian&#8217;s face had gone white and the eagerness of
+his eyes had given place to unspeakable regret.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the matter? Sick?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. Why, it was murder! Margot was right.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! shucks!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon Pierre pulled the faster toward the body of his victim.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>SHOOTING THE RAPIDS</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Three</span> months earlier, if anybody had told Adrian he would ever be
+guilty of such &#8220;squeamishness&#8221; he would have laughed in derision. Now,
+all unconsciously to himself, the influence of his summer at Peace
+Island was upon him and it came to him with the force of a revelation
+that God had created the wild creatures of His forests for something
+nobler than to become the prey of man.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! that grand fellow! his splendidly defiant, yet hopeless, facing
+of death! I wish we&#8217;d never met him!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, of all foolishness! I thought you wanted nothing but the chance
+at him yourself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So I did. Before I saw him. What if it had been Madoc?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;That&#8217;s different.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The same. Might have been twin brothers. Maybe they were.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Couldn&#8217;t have been. Paddle, won&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian did so, but with a poor grace. He would now far rather have
+turned the canoe about toward camp, yet railed at himself for his
+sudden cowardice. He shrank from looking on the dead moose as only an
+hour before he had longed to do so.</p>
+
+<p>They were soon at the spot where the animal had disappeared and
+pushing the boat upon the reedy shore, Pierre plunged forward through
+the marsh. Adrian did not follow, till a triumphant shout reached him.
+Then he felt in his pocket and, finding a pencil with a bit of paper,
+made his own way more slowly to the side of his comrade, who, wildly
+excited, was examining and measuring his quarry. On a broad leaved
+rush he had marked off a hand&#8217;s width and from this unit calculated
+that:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;He&#8217;s eight feet four from hoof to shoulder, and that betters the King
+by six inches. See. His horns spread nigh six feet. If he stood
+straight and held them up he&#8217;d be fifteen feet or nothing! They spread
+more&#8217;n six feet, and I tell you, he&#8217;s a beauty!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. He&#8217;s all of that. But of what use is his beauty now?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Humph! Didn&#8217;t know you was a girl!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian did not answer. He was rapidly and skilfully sketching the
+prostrate animal, and studying it minutely. From his memory of it
+alive and the drawing he hoped to paint a tolerably lifelike portrait
+of the animal; and a fresh inspiration came to him. To those projected
+woodland pictures he would add glimpses of its wild denizens, and in
+such a way that the hearts of the beholders should be moved to pity,
+not to slaughter.</p>
+
+<p>But, already that sharpened knife of Pierre&#8217;s was at work, defacing,
+mutilating.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why do that, man?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Why not? What ails you? What&#8217;d we hunt for?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We don&#8217;t need him for food. You cannot possibly carry those horns any
+distance on our trip, and you&#8217;re not apt to come back just this same
+way. Let him lie. You&#8217;ve done him all the harm you should. Come on. Is
+this like him?&#8221; And Adrian showed his drawing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! it&#8217;s like enough. If you don&#8217;t relish my job&mdash;clear out. I can
+skin him alone.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian waited no second bidding, but strolled away to a distance and
+tried to think of other things than the butchering in progress. But at
+last Pierre whistled and he had to go back or else be left in the
+wilderness to fare alone as best he might. It was a ghastly sight. The
+great skin, splashed and wet with its owner&#8217;s blood, the dismembered
+antlers, the slashed off nose&mdash;which such as Pierre considered a
+precious tid-bit, the naked carcass and the butcher&#8217;s own uninviting
+state.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I declare, I can never get into the same <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>boat with you and all that
+horror. Do leave it here. Do wash yourself&mdash;there&#8217;s plenty of water,
+and let&#8217;s be gone.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre did not notice the appeal. Though the lust of killing had died
+out of his eyes the lust of greed remained. Already he was estimating
+the value of the hide, cured or uncured, and the price those antlers
+would bring could he once get them to the proper market.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, I&#8217;ve heard that in some of the towns folks buy &#8217;em to hang their
+hats on. Odd! Lend a hand.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Reluctantly, Adrian did lift his portion of the heavy horns and helped
+carry them to the birch. He realized that the pluckiest way of putting
+this disagreeable spot behind him was by doing as he was asked. He was
+hopeless of influencing the other by any change in his own feelings
+and wisely kept silence.</p>
+
+<p>But they hunted no more that day, nor did they make any further
+progress on their journey. Pierre busied himself in erecting a rude
+frame upon which he stretched the moose skin <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>to dry. He also prepared
+the antlers and built a sort of hut, of saplings and bark, where he
+could store his trophies till his return trip.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;For I shall surely come back this same way. It&#8217;s good hunting ground
+and moose feed in herds. Small herds, course, but two, three make a
+fellow rich. Eh?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian said nothing. He occupied himself in what Pierre considered a
+silly fashion, sketching, studying &#8220;effects,&#8221; and carefully cutting
+big pieces of the birch-bark that he meant to use for &#8220;canvas.&#8221; To
+keep this flat during his travels was a rather difficult problem, but
+finally solved by cutting two slabs of cedar wood and placing the
+sheets of bark between these.</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon, Pierre laughed and assured the weary chopper that he had
+had his trouble for his pains.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What for you want to carry big lumber that way? Roll your bark.
+That&#8217;s all right. When you want to use it put it in water. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>Easy.
+Queer how little you know about things.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right. I was silly, sure enough. But thanks for your teaching.
+Maybe, if you were in my city I might show you a thing or two.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Both lads were glad, however, when night came, and having cooked
+themselves a good supper and replenished their fire, they slept as
+only such healthy lads can sleep; to wake at sunrise, ready for fresh
+adventures, and with the tragedy of the previous day partly forgotten
+even by Adrian. Then, after a hearty breakfast, they resumed their
+trip.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing eventful occurred for some time after. No more moose appeared,
+and beyond winging a duck or two and fishing now and then, Pierre kept
+his hunting instincts down. In fact, he was just then too lazy to
+exert himself. He felt that he had labored beyond all reason during
+the past summer and needed a rest. Besides, were not his wages
+steadily going on? If Adrian was silly enough to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>paint and paint and
+paint&mdash;all day, this old tree and that mossy stump, he was not
+responsible for another man&#8217;s stupidity. Not he. The food was still
+holding out, so let things take their course.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, however, Adrian realized that they were wasting time. He had
+made sketches on everything and anything he could find and had
+accumulated enough birch-bark to swamp the canoe, should they strike
+rough water; and far more than was comfortable for him to carry over
+any portage. So one morning he announced his intention of leaving the
+wilderness and getting back to civilization.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right. I go with you. Show me the town, then I&#8217;ll come back.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well. As you please. Only I don&#8217;t propose to pay you any longer than
+will take us, now by the shortest road, to Donovan&#8217;s.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Time enough to borrow that trouble when you see it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But Pierre suggested that, as Adrian wished to learn everything
+possible about the woods, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>he should now take the guidance of affairs,
+and that whenever things went wrong he, Pierre, could point the way.
+He did this because, of late, he fancied that his young employer had
+taken a &#8220;too top-lofty&#8221; tone in addressing him; and, in truth,
+Adrian&#8217;s day-dreams of coming fame and his own genius were making him
+feel vastly superior to the rough woodsman.</p>
+
+<p>They had paddled over dead water to a point where two streams touched
+it, and the question rose&mdash;which way?</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That!&#8221; said Adrian, with decision, pointing to the broader and more
+southern of the two.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good enough.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the leader fancied there was a gleam of malice in his
+hireling&#8217;s eye, but he considered it beneath his notice and calmly
+turned the canoe into the thoroughfare he had chosen. It was
+wonderfully smooth and delightful paddling. In all their trip they had
+not found so level a stream, and it was nothing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>but enjoyment of the
+scenery that Adrian felt, until it seemed to him that they had been
+moving a long time without arriving anywhere. &#8220;Haven&#8217;t we?&#8221; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! we&#8217;ll get there soon, now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Presently things began to look familiar. There was one curiously
+shaped, lightning-riven pine, standing high above its fellows, that
+appeared like an old friend.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, what&#8217;s this? Can there be two trees, exactly alike, within a
+half-day&#8217;s rowing? I&#8217;ve certainly sketched that old landmark from
+every side, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">and&mdash;&mdash;</span> Hello! yonder&#8217;s my group of white-birches or I&#8217;m
+blind. How queer!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A few more sweeps and the remains of the camp they had that morning
+left were before them, and Pierre could no longer repress his glee.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good guide, you! Trust a know-it-all for making mistakes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What does it mean?&#8221; demanded Adrian, angrily.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Nothing. Only you picked out a run-about, a little branch of river,
+that wanders out of course and then comes home again. Begins and ends
+the same. Oh! you&#8217;re wise, you are.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Would the other lead us right?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But it turns north. We&#8217;re bound south.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s no matter. Can&#8217;t a river turn, same as runabouts?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I give up. You guide. I&#8217;ll stick to my brush.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This restored affairs to the ground which Pierre considered proper;
+and having paused long enough to eat a lunch, they set out afresh. The
+new track they followed ascended steadily, and it proved a difficult
+stream to get up; but the ascent was accomplished without accident and
+then the surface of the land altered. Again they reached a point where
+two branches met and Pierre explained that the waters of one ran due
+north, but the other bent gradually <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>toward the south and in a little
+while descended through one of the most dangerous &#8220;rips&#8221; he had ever
+seen.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Only saw them once, too. When I went as far as Donovan&#8217;s with the
+master, year before last.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Didn&#8217;t know he ever came so far from the island.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, he goes once every summer, or fall, as far as that New York of
+yours. Likely he&#8217;ll be going soon again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He does? Queer he never mentioned it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Maybe. I&#8217;ve a notion, though, that the things he don&#8217;t say are more
+important than what he does. Ever shoot a rip?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No. I&#8217;ve tried and failed. That&#8217;s how I happened to get lost and
+wandered to Dutton&#8217;s.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s the boss hand at it. Seems as if the danger fired him up. Makes
+him feel as I do when I hunt big game. He didn&#8217;t need my help, only
+fetched me along to take back <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>some truck. That&#8217;s how he picked me out
+to show you. He knew I <span style="white-space: nowrap;">knew&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And I wish I knew&mdash;lots of things!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;One of &#8217;em might be that round that next turn comes the first dip.
+Then, look out.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The stream was descending very perceptibly; and they needed no
+paddling to keep them moving. But they did require to be incessantly
+on the watch to guard against the rocks which obstructed the current
+and which threatened the safety of their frail craft.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You keep an eye on me and one on the channel. It&#8217;ll take a clear head
+to carry us through, and no fooling.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian did not answer. He had no thought for anything just then but
+the menace of those jagged points which seemed to reach toward them as
+if to destroy.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did Pierre speak again. Far better even than his silent companion
+could he estimate the perils which beset them. Life itself was the
+price which they would pay for a moment&#8217;s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>carelessness; but a cool
+head, a clear eye, and a steady wrist&mdash;these meant safety and the
+proud record of a dangerous passage wisely made. A man who could shoot
+those rapids was a guide who might, indeed, some time demand the high
+wages at which Adrian had jeered.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, the channel seemed barred by two opposing bowlders, whose
+points lapped each other. In reality, there was a way between them, by
+the shortest of curves and of but little more than the canoe&#8217;s width.
+Pierre saw and measured the distance skilfully, but he had not counted
+upon the opposing force of the water that rushed against them.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Look&mdash;out! <span style="white-space: nowrap;">take&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Behind the right-hand rock seethed a mighty whirlpool where the river
+speeding downward was caught and tossed back upon itself, around and
+around, mad to escape yet bound by its own power.</p>
+
+<p>Into this vortex the canoe was hurled; to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>be instantly overturned and
+dashed to pieces on the rock.</p>
+
+<p>On its first circuit of the pool Adrian leaped and landed upon the
+slippery bowlder&mdash;breathless, but alive! His hand still clasped the
+pole he had been using to steer with, and <span style="white-space: nowrap;">Pierre&mdash;&mdash;?</span> He had almost
+disappeared within the whirling water, that tossed him like a feather.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+<h3>SCIENCE AND SUPERSTITION</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">For</span> an instant Adrian closed his eyes that he might not see the
+inevitable end. But&mdash;was it inevitable? At the logging camp he had
+heard of just such accidents as this and not all of them were fatal.
+The water in its whirling sometimes tossed that which it had caught
+outward to safety.</p>
+
+<p>He flung himself prone and extended the pole. Pierre&#8217;s body was making
+another circuit of that horrible pit and when&mdash;if&mdash;should <span style="white-space: nowrap;">it&mdash;&mdash;</span> The
+drowning boy&#8217;s head was under the current, but his legs swung round
+upon its surface, faster and faster, as they drew nearer the centre.</p>
+
+<p>Then&mdash;a marvel! The long pole was thrust under the invisible arms,
+which closed upon it as a vice.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Hold! Hold! I&#8217;ll pull you out!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But for the hard labor of the past few weeks Adrian&#8217;s muscles could
+not have stood the strain. Yet they did, and as he drew the nearly
+senseless Pierre upon the rock beside himself his soul went up in such
+glad thanksgiving as he had never known, or might know again. A life
+saved. That was worth all things.</p>
+
+<p>For an hour they lay there, resting, recovering; then Pierre, himself,
+stood up to see what chance there was for a fuller deliverance. He was
+a very sober and altered Pierre, and his drenched clothing added to
+the forlornness of his appearance.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nothing left but&mdash;us. Came nigh bein&#8217; only you. Say, Adrian, I shan&#8217;t
+forget it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How are we going to get ashore?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Tisn&#8217;t much harder&#8217;n Margot&#8217;s stepping-stones. Done them times
+enough.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Again Adrian was grateful for his forest experience, but he asked with
+some anxiety:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Suppose you are strong enough to do it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Isn&#8217;t any supposin&#8217; about it. Got to. Might as well died in the pool
+as starve on this rock.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian didn&#8217;t see that there was much better than starvation before
+them even if they did reach shore, but he kept his fear to himself.
+Besides, it was not probable that they had been saved from the flood
+to perish in the forest. They would better look at the bright side of
+the situation, if they hoped to find such.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can jump them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So can I.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t let go that pole. I mean to keep that as long as I live&mdash;&#8217;less
+you want it yourself. If you <span style="white-space: nowrap;">do&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, Pierre, it belongs to you, and doubly now. Which should go
+first&mdash;you or I?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Draw lots. If that one falls in, the other must fish him out. Only we
+won&#8217;t try it on this side, by the pool.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They carefully surveyed the crossing, almost as dangerous an affair as
+shooting the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>rapids had been. Yet, as Pierre had said, they &#8220;had to.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian picked a bit of floating weed that had swept within his reach
+and broke it into unequal portions. The shortest bit fell to him and
+with as cheerful a &#8220;here goes!&#8221; as he could muster he sprang for the
+next stone. He made it; more easily than he had hoped, and saw that
+his best chance lay in looking straight ahead to the next
+landing-point&mdash;and the next&mdash;never down at the swirling river.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Landed! Come!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre was heavier but more practiced than his mate, and in a few
+seconds the two stood together on the shore, regarding the ruins of
+their boat and thinking of what they would not have for supper.</p>
+
+<p>All at once Pierre&#8217;s eye brightened.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Say! there&#8217;s been a camp here. Not so long ago, either. See that
+barrel in the brush? There&#8217;s an old birch shed yonder. Hurrah!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They did not linger, though Adrian kept <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>hoping that something from
+their lost outfit might be tossed outward toward them, even as Pierre
+had been; but nothing came in sight and he reached the dilapidated
+shed only a few feet behind the other.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s a bed left still, but not such a soft one. And there&#8217;s pork
+in that barrel. Wonder the hedgehogs haven&#8217;t found it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But as Pierre thrust his nose into the depths of the cask he
+understood the reason of its safety.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Whew! Even a porkypine wouldn&#8217;t touch that! Never mind. Reckon our
+boots&#8217;ll need greasing after that ducking, or mine will, and it&#8217;ll
+answer. Anything under the shed?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t see anything. Wait. Yes, I do. A canvas bag hung up high. Must
+have been forgotten when the campers left, for they took everything
+else, clean sweep. Hurrah! It&#8217;s beans!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good. Beans are good fodder for hungry cattle.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;How can you eat such hard things? Should think they&#8217;d been
+resurrected from the Pyramids.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I don&#8217;t know &#8216;Pyramids,&#8217; but I do know beans, and how to cook
+them. Fall to. Let&#8217;s get a fire. I&#8217;m nearly frozen.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Fire? Can you make one?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can try <span style="white-space: nowrap;">and&mdash;&mdash;</span> I&#8217;ve got to. When needs must, you know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian hastily collected some dry twigs and decaying chips and heaped
+them in the sunniest place, but for this was promptly reprimanded by
+the shivering Pierre.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you know anything at all? Wood won&#8217;t light, nor burn after &#8217;tis
+lighted, in the sunshine. Stick up something to shade the stuff,
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">whilst&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>He illustrated what he did not further say, by carefully selecting
+some hard stones and briskly rubbing them together. A faint spark
+resulted and a thistle-down caught the spark. To the thistle-down he
+held a dried grass blade and another. By this small beginning <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>they
+had soon a tiny blaze and very soon a comforting fire.</p>
+
+<p>When they were partially dried and rested, said Pierre:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now, fetch on your beans. While they&#8217;re cooking, we&#8217;ll take account
+of what is left.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian brought the bag, refraining from any questions this time. He
+was wondering and watchful. Pierre&#8217;s misadventures were developing
+unsuspected resources and the spirits of both lads rose again to the
+normal.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re so fond of splitting birch for pictures, split me some now for
+a bucket, while I sharpen this knife again. Lucky for me my pocket
+buttoned, else it would have gone to the bottom of that pool. Got
+yours?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. I didn&#8217;t fall in, you know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then I don&#8217;t ask odds of anybody. I&#8217;d rather have a good axe, but
+when I can&#8217;t get my rather I take the next best thing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian procured the strips of birch, which grows so plentifully to
+hand in all that woodland, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>and when Pierre had trimmed it into the
+desired shape he deftly rolled it and tied it with stout rootlets, and
+behold! there was a shapely sort of kettle, with a twig for a handle.
+But of what use it might be the city lad had yet to learn.</p>
+
+<p>Pierre filled the affair with water and put into it a good handful of
+the beans. Then he fixed a crotched stick over his fire and hung the
+birch kettle upon it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! don&#8217;t waste them. I know. I saw Angelique soak them, as they did
+at camp. I know, now. If we can&#8217;t cook them we can make them swell up
+in water, and starving men can exist on such food till they reach a
+settlement. Of course we&#8217;ll start as soon as you&#8217;re all right.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ll start when we&#8217;re ready. That&#8217;s after we&#8217;ve had something to eat
+and have made our new canoe. Never struck a spot where there was
+likelier birches. &#8217;Twon&#8217;t be the first one I&#8217;ve built or seen built.
+Say. Seems as if that God that Margot is always saying <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>takes care of
+folks must have had a hand in this. Doesn&#8217;t it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. It does,&#8221; answered Adrian, reverently. Surely, Pierre was a
+changed and better lad.</p>
+
+<p>Then his eyes rested on the wooden dinner-pot, and to his astonishment
+it was not burning but hung steadily in its place and the water in it
+was already beginning to simmer. Above the water line the bark
+shrivelled and scorched slightly, but Pierre looked out for this and
+with a scoop made from a leaf replenished the water as it steamed
+away. The beans, too, were swelling and gave every promise of
+cooking&mdash;in due course of time. Meanwhile, the cook rolled himself
+over and about in the warmth of the fire till his clothes were dry and
+all the cold had left his body. Also, he had observed Adrian&#8217;s
+surprise with a pardonable pride.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Lose an Indian in the woods and he&#8217;s as rich as a lord. It&#8217;s the
+Indian in me coming out now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s an extra sense. Divination, instinct, something better than
+education.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What the master calls &#8216;woodcraft.&#8217; Yes. Wonder how he is, and all of
+them. Say. What do you think I thought about when I was whirling round
+that pool, before I didn&#8217;t think of anything?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your sins, I suppose. That&#8217;s what I&#8217;ve heard comes to a drowning
+man.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Shucks! Saw the m&eacute;re&#8217;s face when she broke that glass! Fact. Though I
+wasn&#8217;t there at the time. And one thing more: saw that ridiculous
+Xanthipp&eacute;, looking like she&#8217;d never done a thing but warble. Oh! my!
+How I do wish Margot&#8217;d sell her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Shall I help you get birch for the canoe now? I begin to believe you
+can do even that, you are so clever.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This praise was sweet to Pierre&#8217;s vain ears and had the result which
+Adrian desired, of diverting the talk from their island friends. In
+their present situation, hopeful as the other pretended to find it, he
+felt it best for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>his own peace of mind not to recall loved and absent
+faces.</p>
+
+<p>They went to work with a will, and will it was that helped them; else
+with the poor tools at hand they had never accomplished their
+undertaking. Indeed, it was a labor of considerable time. Not only was
+that first meal of boiled beans cooked and eaten, but several more of
+the same sort followed. To vary these, Pierre baked some, in the same
+method as he had boiled them, or else in the ashes of their fire. He
+even fashioned a sort of hook from a coat button and with cedar roots
+for a line, caught a fish now and then. But they craved the seasoning
+of salt, and even the dessert of blue-berries which nature provided
+them could not satisfy this longing, which grew almost intolerable to
+Adrian&#8217;s civilized palate.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Queer, isn&#8217;t it? When I was at that lumber camp I nearly died because
+all the meat, or nearly all, was so salt. Got so I couldn&#8217;t eat
+anything, hardly. Now, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>just because I haven&#8217;t salt I can&#8217;t eat,
+either.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indians not that way. Indians eat one thing same&#8217;s another. Indian
+just wants to live, don&#8217;t care about the rest. Indian never eats too
+much. I&#8217;m all Indian now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian opened his eyes to their widest, then threw himself back and
+laughed till the tears came.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pierre, Pierre! Would you had been &#8216;all Indian&#8217; when you tackled
+Angelique&#8217;s fried chicken! Umm! I can taste it now!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But at length the new canoe was ready. They had put as few ribs into
+it as would suffice to hold it in shape and Pierre had carefully sewn
+it with the roots of the black cedar, which serves the woodsman for so
+many purposes, where thread or twine is needed. They had made a paddle
+and a pole as well as they could with their knives, and having nothing
+to pack except themselves and their small remnant of beans, made their
+last camp-fire at that spot and lay down to sleep.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p><p>But the dreams of both were troubled; and in the night Adrian rose and
+went to add wood to the fire. It had died down to coals, but his
+attention was caught by a ring of white light upon the ashes, wholly
+distinct from the red embers.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s that?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>In a moment he had answered his own question. It was the
+phosphorescent glow from the inner bark of a half burned log, and
+further away he saw another portion of the same log making a ghostly
+radiance on the surrounding ground.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! I wouldn&#8217;t have missed that for anything. Mr. Dutton told me of
+beautiful sights he had witnessed and of the strange will-o&#8217;-the-wisps
+that abound in the forest. I&#8217;ll gather some of the chips.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He did so, and they made a fairy-like radiance over his palm; but
+while he was intently studying them, he felt his hand rudely knocked
+up, so that the bits of wood flew out of it.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Pierre! Stop that!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you know what that is? A warning&mdash;a sign&mdash;an omen. Oh! if I had
+never come upon this trip!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You foolish fellow. Just as I thought you were beginning to get
+sense. Nothing in the world but decayed bark and <span style="white-space: nowrap;">chemical&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Pierre stopped his ears.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was dreaming of the m&eacute;re. She came with her apron to her eyes and
+her clothes in tatters. She was <span style="white-space: nowrap;">scolding&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Perfectly natural.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And begging <span style="white-space: nowrap;">me&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not to eat so many half-baked beans for supper.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s something wrong at the island. I saw the cabin all dark. I
+saw Margot&#8217;s eyes red with weeping.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No doubt Tom has been into fresh mischief and your mother has
+punished him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre ignored these flippant interruptions, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>but rehearsed his dismal
+visions till Adrian lost patience and pushed him aside.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Go. Bring an armful of fresh wood; some that isn&#8217;t phosphorescent, if
+you prefer. That&#8217;ll wake you up and drive the megrims out of your
+mind.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Tis neither of them things. &#8217;Tis a warning. They were all painted
+with black, and all the Hollow creatures were painted, too. &#8217;Tis a
+warning. I shall see death before I <span style="white-space: nowrap;">am&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Even while he maundered on in this strain he was unconsciously obeying
+the command to fetch wood, and moved toward a pile left ready. Now, in
+raking this together, Adrian had, also, swept that spot of ground
+clean and exposed; and what neither had observed in the twilight was
+plainly revealed by the glow and shadows cast by the fire.</p>
+
+<p>This was a low, carefully made mound that, in shape and significance,
+could be confounded with no other sort of mound, wherever met. Both
+recognized it at once, and even upon <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>Adrian the shock was painful;
+but its effect upon superstitious Pierre was far greater. With a
+shriek that startled the silence of the forest he flung himself
+headlong.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+<h3>DIVERGING ROADS</h3>
+
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">Get</span> up, Pierre. You should be ashamed of yourself!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It needed a strong and firm grasp to force the terrified lad to his
+feet and even when he, at last, stood up he shivered like an aspen.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A grave!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Certainly. A grave. But neither yours nor mine. Only that of some
+poor fellow who has died in the wilderness. I&#8217;m sorry I piled the
+brush upon it, yet glad we discovered it in the end.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Gla-a-ad!&#8221; gasped the other.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. Of course. I mean to cover it with fresh sods and plant some of
+those purple orchids at its head. I&#8217;ll cut a cedar headstone, too, and
+mark it so that nobody else shall desecrate it as we have done.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;You mustn&#8217;t touch it! It&#8217;s nobody&#8217;s&mdash;only a warning.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A warning, surely; that we must take great care lest a like fate come
+on us; but somebody lies under that mound and I pity him. Most
+probable that he lost his life in that very whirlpool which wrecked
+us. Twice I&#8217;ve been upset and lost all my belongings, but escaped
+safe. I hope I&#8217;ll not run the same chance again. Come. Lie down again,
+and go to sleep.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Couldn&#8217;t sleep; to try in such a haunted place would be to be
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">&#8216;spelled&#8217;&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pierre Ricord! For a fellow that&#8217;s so smart at some things you are
+the biggest dunce I know, in others. Haven&#8217;t we slept like lords ever
+since we struck this camp? I&#8217;m going to make my bed up again and turn
+in. I advise you to do the same.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian tossed the branches aside, then rearranged them, lapping the
+soft ends over the hard ones in an orderly row which would have
+pleased a housewife. Thus freshened <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>his odorous mattress was as good
+as new, and stretching himself upon it he went to sleep immediately.</p>
+
+<p>Pierre fully intended to keep awake; but fatigue and loneliness
+prevailed, and five minutes later he had crept close to Adrian&#8217;s side.</p>
+
+<p>The sunshine on his face, and the sound of a knife cutting wood awoke
+him; and there was Adrian whittling away at a broad slab of cedar,
+smiling and jeering, and in the best of spirits, despite his rather
+solemn occupation.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;For a fellow who wouldn&#8217;t sleep, you&#8217;ve done pretty well. See. I&#8217;ve
+caught a fish and set it cooking. I&#8217;ve picked a pile of berries, and
+have nearly finished this headstone. Added another accomplishment to
+my many&mdash;monument maker. But I&#8217;m wrong to laugh over that, though the
+poor unknown to whom it belongs would be grateful to me, I&#8217;ve no
+doubt. Lend a hand, will you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But nothing would induce Pierre to engage in any such business. Nor
+would he touch <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>his breakfast while Adrian&#8217;s knife was busy. He sat
+apart, looking anywhere rather than toward his mate, and talking over
+his shoulder to him in a strangely subdued voice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Adrian!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Most done?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nearly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What you going to put on it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve been wondering. Think this: &#8216;To the Memory of My Unknown
+Brother.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Wh-a-a-t!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian repeated the inscription.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He was no kin to you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We are all kin. It&#8217;s all one world, God&#8217;s world. All the people and
+all these forests, and the creatures in them&mdash;I tell you I&#8217;ve never
+heard a sermon that touched me as the sight of this grave in the
+wilderness has touched me. I mean to be a better, kinder man, because
+of it. Margot was right, none of us has a right to his own self. She
+told me often that I should go home to my own <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>folks and make
+everything right with them; then, if I could, come back and live in
+the woods, somewhere. &#8216;If I felt I must.&#8217; But I don&#8217;t feel that way
+now. I want to get back and go to work. I want to live so that when I
+die&mdash;like that poor chap, yonder,&mdash;somebody will have been the better
+for my life. Pshaw! Why do I talk to you like this? Anyway, I&#8217;ll set
+this slab in place, and <span style="white-space: nowrap;">then&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Pierre rose and still without looking Adrian&#8217;s way, pushed the new
+canoe into the water. He had carefully pitched it, on the day before,
+with a mixture of the old pork grease and gum from the trees, so that
+there need be no delay at starting.</p>
+
+<p>Adrian finished his work, lettered the slab with a coal from the fire,
+and re-watered the wild flowers he had already planted.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Aren&#8217;t you going to eat breakfast first?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not in a graveyard,&#8221; answered Pierre, with a solemnity that checked
+Adrian&#8217;s desire to smile.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p><p>A last reverent attention, a final clearing of all rubbish from the
+spot, and he, too, stepped into the canoe and picked up his paddle.
+They had passed the rapids and reached a smooth stretch of the river,
+where they had camped, and now pulled steadily and easily away, once
+more upon their journey south. But not till they had put a
+considerable distance between themselves and that woodland grave,
+would Pierre consent to stop and eat the food that Adrian had
+prepared. Even then, he restricted the amount to be consumed,
+remarking with doleful conviction:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;re going to be starved before we reach Donovan&#8217;s. The &#8216;food stick&#8217;
+burnt off and dropped into the fire, last night.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian remembered that his mate had spoken of it at the time, when by
+some carelessness, they had not secured the crotched sapling on which
+they hung their birch kettle.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! you simple thing. Why will you go through life tormenting
+yourself with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>such nonsense? Come. Eat your breakfast. We&#8217;re going
+straight to Donovan&#8217;s as fast as we can. I&#8217;ve done with the woods for
+a time. So should you be done. You&#8217;re needed at the island. Not
+because of any dreams but because the more I recall of Mr. Dutton&#8217;s
+appearance the surer I am that he is a sick man. You&#8217;ll go back, won&#8217;t
+you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. I&#8217;m going back. Not because you ask me, though.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t care why&mdash;only go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m not going into the show business.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian smiled. &#8220;Of course you&#8217;re not. You&#8217;ll never have money enough.
+It would cost lots.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Tisn&#8217;t that. &#8217;Twas the dream. That was sent me. All them animals in
+black paint, and the blue herons without any heads, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">and&mdash;&mdash;</span> My mother
+came for me, last night.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I heartily wish you could go to her this minute! She&#8217;s superstitious
+enough, in all conscience, yet she has the happy faculty of keeping
+her lugubrious son in subjection.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p><p>Whenever Pierre became particularly depressing the other would rattle
+off as many of the longest words as occurred to him. They had the
+effect of diverting his comrade&#8217;s thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>Then they pulled on again, nor did anything disastrous happen to
+further hinder their progress. The food did not give out, for they
+lived mostly upon berries, having neither time nor desire to stop and
+cook their remnant of beans. When they were especially tired Pierre
+lighted a fire and made a bucket of hemlock tea, but Adrian found cold
+water preferable to this decoction; and, in fact, they were much
+nearer Donovan&#8217;s, that first settlement in the wilderness, than even
+Pierre had suspected.</p>
+
+<p>Their last portage was made&mdash;an easy one, there being nothing but
+themselves and the canoe to carry&mdash;and they came to a big dead water
+where they had looked to find another running stream; but had no
+sooner sighted it than their ears were greeted by the laughter <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>of
+loons, which threw up their legs and dived beneath the surface in that
+absurd manner which Adrian always found amusing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bad luck, again!&#8221; cried Pierre, instantly, &#8220;never hear a loon
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">but&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you see a house! Look, look! Donovan&#8217;s, or somebody&#8217;s, no matter
+whose! A house, a house!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There, indeed, it lay; a goodly farmstead, with its substantial
+cabins, its outbuildings, its groups of cattle on the cleared land,
+and&mdash;yes, yes, its moving human beings, and what seemed oddest still,
+its teams of horses.</p>
+
+<p>Even Pierre was silent, and tears sprang to the eyes of both lads as
+they gazed. Until that moment neither had fully realized how lonely
+and desolate had been their situation.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now for it! It&#8217;s a biggish lake and we&#8217;re pretty tired! But that
+means rest, plenty to eat, people&mdash;everything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Their rudely built canoe was almost useless when they beached it at
+last on Donovan&#8217;s wharf, and their own strength was spent. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>But it was
+a hospitable household to which they had come, and one quite used to
+welcoming wanderers from the forest. They were fed and clothed and
+bedded, without question, but, when a long sleep had set them both
+right, tongues wagged and plans were settled with amazing promptness.</p>
+
+<p>For there were other guests at the farm; a party of prospectors, going
+north into the woods to locate timber for the next season&#8217;s cutting.
+These would be glad of Pierre&#8217;s company and help, and would pay him
+&#8220;the going wages.&#8221; But they would not return by the route he had come,
+though by leaving theirs at a point well north, he could easily make
+his way back to the island.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So you shot the poor moose for nothing. You cannot even have his
+horns!&#8221; said Adrian reproachfully. &#8220;Well, as soon as I can vote, I
+mean to use all my influence to stop this murder in the forest.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The strangers smiled and shrugged their shoulders. &#8220;We&#8217;re after game
+ourselves, as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>well as timber, but legislation is already in progress
+to stop the indiscriminate slaughter of the fast disappearing moose
+and caribou. Five hundred dollars is the fine to be imposed for any
+infringement of the law, once passed.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre&#8217;s jaw dropped. He was so impressed by the long words and the
+mention of that, to him, enormous sum, that he was rendered speechless
+for a longer time than Adrian ever remembered. But, if he said
+nothing, he reflected sadly upon the magnificent antlers he should see
+no more.</p>
+
+<p>Adrian&#8217;s affairs were also, speedily and satisfactorily arranged.
+Farmer Donovan would willingly take him to the nearest stage route;
+thence to a railway would be easy journeying; and by steam he could
+travel swiftly, indeed, to that distant home which he now so longed to
+see.</p>
+
+<p>The parting of the lads was brief, but not without emotion. Two people
+cannot go through their experiences and dangers, to remain indifferent
+to each other. In both their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>hearts was now the kindliest feeling and
+the sincere hope that they should meet again. Pierre departed first
+and looked back many times at the tall, graceful figure of his
+comrade; then the trees intervened and the forest had again swallowed
+him into its familiar depths.</p>
+
+<p>Then Adrian, also, stepped upon the waiting buck-board and was driven
+over the rough road in the opposite direction.</p>
+
+<p>Three days later, with nothing in his pocket but his treasured knife,
+a roll of birch-bark, and the ten-dollar piece which, through all his
+adventures, he had worn pinned to his inner clothing, &#8220;a make-piece
+offering&#8221; to his mother he reached the brown stone steps to his
+father&#8217;s city mansion.</p>
+
+<p>There, for the first time, he hesitated. All the bitterness with which
+he had descended those steps, banished in disgrace, was keenly
+remembered.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Can I, shall I, dare I go up and ring that bell?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A vision floated before him. Margot&#8217;s earnest <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>face and tear-dimmed
+eyes. Her lips speaking:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If I had father or mother anywhere&mdash;nothing should ever make me leave
+them. I would bear everything&mdash;but I would be true to them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>An instant later a peal rang through that silent house, such as it had
+not echoed in many a day. What would be the answer to it?</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+<h3>IN THE HOUR OF DARKNESS</h3>
+
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">No</span> sign yet?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No sign.&#8221; Margot&#8217;s tone was almost hopeless. Day after day, many
+times each day, she had climbed the pine-tree flagstaff and peered
+into the distance. Not once had anything been visible, save that wide
+stretch of forest and the shining lake.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Suppose you cross again, to old Joe&#8217;s. He might be back by this time.
+I&#8217;ll fix you a bite of dinner, and you better. <span style="white-space: nowrap;">Maybe&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>The girl shook her head and clasped her arms about old Angelique&#8217;s
+neck. Then the long repressed grief burst forth in dry sobs that shook
+them both, and pierced the housekeeper&#8217;s faithful heart with a pain
+beyond endurance.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Pst! Pouf! Hush, sweetheart, hush! &#8217;Tis nought. A few days more and
+the master will be well. A few days more and Pierre will <span style="white-space: nowrap;">come&mdash;&mdash;</span> Ah!
+but I had my hands about his ears this minute! That would teach him,
+yes, to turn his back on duty, him. The ingrate! Well, what the Lord
+sends the body must bear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot lifted her head, shook back her hair, and smiled wanly. The
+veriest ghost of her old smile, it was, yet even such a delight to the
+other&#8217;s eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good. That&#8217;s right. Rouse up. There&#8217;s a wing of a fowl in the
+cupboard, left from the master&#8217;s <span style="white-space: nowrap;">broth&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Angelique, he didn&#8217;t touch it, to-day. Not even touch it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Tis nought. When the fever is on the appetite is gone. Will be all
+right once that is over.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But, will it ever be over? Day after day, just the same. Always that
+tossing to and fro, the queer, jumbled talk, the growing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>thinner&mdash;all
+of the dreadful signs of how he suffers. Angelique, if I could bear it
+for him! I am so young and strong and worth nothing to this world
+while he&#8217;s so wise and good. Everybody who ever knew him must be the
+better for Uncle Hughie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Tis truth. For that, the good Lord will spare him to us. Of that be
+sure.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But I pray and pray and pray, and there comes no answer. He is never
+any better. You know that. You can&#8217;t deny it. Always before when I
+have prayed the answer has come swift and sure, but <span style="white-space: nowrap;">now&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Take care, Margot. &#8217;Tis not for us to judge the Lord&#8217;s strange ways.
+Else were not you and me and the master shut up alone on this island,
+with no doctor near, and only our two selves to keep the dumb things
+in comfort, though, as for dumbness, hark yonder beast!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Reynard! Oh! I forgot. I shut him up because he would hang about the
+house and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>watch your poor chickens. If he&#8217;d stay in his own forest
+now, I would be so glad. Yet I love <span style="white-space: nowrap;">him&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Aye, and he loves you. Be thankful. Even a beastie&#8217;s love is of God&#8217;s
+sending. Go feed him. Here. The wing you&#8217;ll not eat yourself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There were dark days now on the once sunny island of peace.</p>
+
+<p>That day when Mr. Dutton had said: &#8220;Your father is still alive,&#8221;
+seemed now to Margot, looking back, as one of such experiences as
+change a whole life. Up till that morning she had been a thoughtless,
+unreflecting child, but the utterance of those fateful words altered
+everything.</p>
+
+<p>Amazement, unbelief of what her ears told her, indignation that she
+had been so long deceived&mdash;as she put it&mdash;were swiftly followed by a
+dreadful fear. Even while he spoke, the woodlander&#8217;s figure swayed and
+trembled, the hoe-handle on which he rested wavered and fell, and he,
+too, would have fallen had not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>the girl&#8217;s arms caught and eased his
+sudden sinking in the furrow he had worked. Her shrill cry of alarm
+had reached Angelique, always alert for trouble and then more than
+ever, and had brought her swiftly to the field. Between them they had
+carried the now unconscious man within and laid him on his bed. He had
+never risen from it since; nor, in her heart, did Angelique believe he
+ever would, though she so stoutly asserted to the contrary before
+Margot.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We have changed places, Angelique, dear,&#8221; the child often said. &#8220;It
+used to be you who was always croaking and looking for trouble. Now
+you see only brightness.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, good sooth. &#8217;Tis a long lane has no turnin&#8217;, and better late
+nor never. Sometimes &#8217;tis well to say &#8216;stay good trouble lest worser
+comes,&#8217; eh? But things&#8217;ll mend. They must. Now, run and climb the
+tree. It might be this ver&#8217; minute that wretch, Pierre, was on his way
+across the lake. Pouf! But he&#8217;ll stir his lazy bones, once he touches
+this <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>shore! Yes, yes, indeed. Run and hail him, maybe.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>So Margot had gone, again and again, and had returned to sit beside
+her uncle&#8217;s bed, anxious and watchful.</p>
+
+<p>Often, also, she had paddled across the narrows and made her way
+swiftly to a little clearing on her uncle&#8217;s land, where, among giant
+trees, old Joseph Wills, the Indian guide and faithful friend of all
+on Peace Island, made one of his homes. Once Mr. Dutton had nursed
+this red man through a dangerous illness, and had kept him in his own
+home for many weeks thereafter. He would have been the very nurse they
+now needed, in their turn, could he have been found. But his cabin was
+closed, and on its doorway, under the family sign-picture of a turtle
+on a rock, he had printed in dialect, what signified his departure for
+a long hunting trip.</p>
+
+<p>Now, as Angelique advised, she resolved to try once more; and hurrying
+to the shore, pushed her canoe into the water and paddled <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>swiftly
+away. She had taken the neglected Reynard with her and Tom had invited
+himself to be a party of the trip; and in the odd but sympathetic
+companionship, Margot&#8217;s spirits rose again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It must be as Angelique says. The long lane will turn. Why have I
+been so easily discouraged? I never saw my precious uncle ill before,
+and that is why I have been so frightened. I suppose anybody gets thin
+and says things, when there is fever. But he&#8217;s troubled about
+something. He wants to do something that neither of us understand.
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">Unless&mdash;&mdash;</span> Oh! I believe I do understand! My head is clearer out here
+on the water, and I know, I know! it is just about the time of year
+when he goes away on those long trips of his. And we&#8217;ve been so
+anxious we never remembered. That&#8217;s it. That surely is it. Then, of
+course, Joe will be back now or soon. He always stays on the island
+when uncle goes and he&#8217;ll remember. Oh! I&#8217;m brighter already, and I
+guess, I believe, it is as Angelique claims&mdash;God <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>won&#8217;t take away so
+good a man as uncle and leave me alone. Though&mdash;I am not alone! I have
+a father! I have a father, somewhere, if I only knew&mdash;all in good
+time&mdash;and I&#8217;m growing gladder and gladder every minute.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She could even sing to the stroke of her paddle and she skimmed the
+water with increasing speed. Whatever the reason for her growing
+cheerfulness, whether the reaction of youth or a prescience of
+happiness to come, the result was the same; she reached the further
+shore flushed and eager eyed, more like the old Margot than she had
+been for many days.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! he&#8217;s there. He is at home. There is a smoke coming out the
+chimney. Joseph! Oh! Joseph, Joseph!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She did not even stop to take care of her canoe but left it to float
+whither it would. Nothing mattered, Joseph was at home. He had canoes
+galore, and he was help indeed.</p>
+
+<p>She was quite right. The old man came to his doorway and waited her
+arrival with apparent <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>indifference, though surely no human heart
+could have been unmoved by such unfeigned delight. Catching his
+unresponsive hands in hers she cried:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Come at once, Joseph! At once!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Does not the master trust his friend? It is the time to come.
+Therefore I am here.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course. I just thought about that. But, Joseph, the master is ill.
+He knows nothing any more. If he ever needed you he needs you doubly
+now. Come, come at once.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Then, indeed, though there was little outward expression of it, was
+old Joseph moved. He stopped for nothing, but leaving his fire burning
+on the hearth and his supper cooking before it, went out and closed
+the door. Even Margot&#8217;s nimble feet had ado to keep pace with his long
+strides and she had to spring before him to prevent his pushing off
+without her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, no. I&#8217;m going with you. Here. I&#8217;ll tow my own boat, with Tom and
+Reynard&mdash;don&#8217;t <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>you squabble, pets!&mdash;but I&#8217;ll paddle no more while
+you&#8217;re here to do it for me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Joseph did not answer, but he allowed her to seat herself where she
+pleased and with one strong movement sent his big birch a long
+distance over the water.</p>
+
+<p>Margot had never made the passage so swiftly, but the motion suited
+her exactly, and she leaped ashore almost before it was reached, to
+speed up the hill and call out to Angelique wherever she might be:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All is well! All will now be well&mdash;Joseph has come.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The Indian reached the house but just behind her and acknowledged
+Angelique&#8217;s greeting with a sort of grunt; yet he paused not at all to
+ask the way or if he might enter the master&#8217;s room, passing directly
+into it as if by right.</p>
+
+<p>Margot followed him, cautioning, with finger on lip, anxious lest her
+patient should be shocked and harmed by the too sudden appearance of
+the visitor.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p><p>Then and only then, when her beloved child was safely out of sight did
+Angelique throw her apron over her head and give her own despairing
+tears free vent. She was spent and very weary; but help had come; and
+in the revulsion of that relief nature gave way. Her tears ceased, her
+breath came heavily, and the poor woman slept, the first refreshing
+slumber of an unmeasured time.</p>
+
+<p>When she waked at length, Joseph was crossing the room. The fire had
+died out, twilight was falling, she was conscious of duties left
+undone. Yet there was light enough left for her to scan the Indian&#8217;s
+impassive face with keen intensity, and though he turned neither to
+the right nor left but went out with no word or gesture to satisfy her
+craving, she felt that she had had her answer:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Unless a miracle is wrought my master is doomed.&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE LETTER</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">From</span> the moment of his entrance to the sick room, old Joe assumed all
+charge to it, and with scant courtesy banished from it both Angelique
+and Margot.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But he is mine, my own precious uncle. Joe has no right to keep me
+out!&#8221; protested Margot, vehemently.</p>
+
+<p>Angelique was wiser. &#8220;In his own way, among his own folks, that Indian
+good doctor. Leave him be. Yes. If my master can be save&#8217;, Joe
+Wills&#8217;ll save him. That&#8217;s as God plans; but if I hadn&#8217;t <span style="white-space: nowrap;">broke&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Angelique! Don&#8217;t you ever, ever let me hear that dreadful talk again!
+I can&#8217;t bear it. I don&#8217;t believe it. I won&#8217;t hear it. I will not. Do
+you suppose that our dear Lord is&mdash;<span style="white-space: nowrap;">will&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>She could not finish her sentence and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>Angelique was frightened by the
+intensity of the girl&#8217;s excitement. Was she, too, growing feverish and
+ill? But Margot&#8217;s outburst had worked off some of her own
+uncomprehended terror, and she grew calm again. Though it had not been
+put into so many words, she knew from both Angelique&#8217;s and Joseph&#8217;s
+manner that they anticipated but one end to her guardian&#8217;s illness.
+She had never seen death, except among the birds and beasts of the
+forest, and even then it had been horrible to her; and that this
+should come into her own happy home was unbearable.</p>
+
+<p>Then she reflected. Hugh Dutton&#8217;s example had been her instruction,
+and she had never seen him idle. At times when he seemed most so,
+sitting among his books, or gazing silently into the fire, his brain
+had been active over some problem that perplexed or interested him.
+&#8220;Never hasting, never wasting,&#8221; time, nor thought, nor any energy of
+life. That was his rule and she would make it hers.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;I can, at least, make things more comfortable out of doors. Angelique
+has let even Snowfoot suffer, sometimes, for want of the grooming and
+care she&#8217;s always had. The poultry, too, and the poor garden. I&#8217;m glad
+I&#8217;m strong enough to rake and hoe, even if I couldn&#8217;t lift uncle as
+Joe does.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Her industry brought its own reward. Things outside the house took on
+a more natural aspect. The weeds were cleared away, and both
+vegetables and flowers lifted their heads more cheerfully. Snowfoot
+showed the benefit of the attention she received, and the forgotten
+family in the Hollow chattered and gamboled in delight at the
+reappearance among them of their indulgent mistress. Margot herself
+grew lighter of heart and more positive that, after all, things would
+end well.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You see, Angelique dismal, we might as well take that broken glass
+sign to mean good things as evil. That uncle will soon be up and
+around again; Pierre be at home; and the &#8216;specimen&#8217; from the old cave
+prove <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>copper or something just as rich; and&mdash;everybody be as happy as
+a king.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Angelique grunted her disbelief, but was thankful for the other&#8217;s
+lighter mood.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, then, if you&#8217;ve so much time and strength to spare, go yonder
+and clean up the room that Adrian left so untidy. Where he never
+should have been, had I my own way; but one never has that in this
+world; hey, no. Indeed, no. Ever&#8217;thin&#8217; goes contrary, else I&#8217;d have
+cleared away all trace long sin&#8217;. Yes, indeed, yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, he is gone. There&#8217;s no need to abuse him, even if he did not
+have the politeness to say good-bye. Though, I suppose, it was my
+uncle who put a stop to that. What uncle has to do he does at once.
+There&#8217;s never any hesitation about uncle. But I wish&mdash;I
+wish&mdash;Angelique Ricord, do you know something? Do you know all the
+history of this family?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why should I not, eh?&#8221; demanded the woman, indignantly. &#8220;Is it not my
+own <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>family, yes? What is Pierre but one son? I love him, oh! yes.
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">But&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You adore him, bad and trying as he is. But there is something you
+must tell me. If you know it. Maybe you do not. I did not, till that
+awful morning when he was taken ill. But that very minute he told me
+what I had never dreamed. I was angry; for a moment I almost hated him
+because he had deceived me, though afterward I knew that he had done
+it for the best and would tell me why when he could. So I&#8217;ve tried to
+trust him just the same and be patient. But&mdash;he may never be able&mdash;and
+I must know. Angelique, where is my father?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The housekeeper was so startled that she dropped the plate she was
+wiping and broke it. Yet even at that fresh omen of disaster she could
+not remove her gaze from the girl&#8217;s face nor banish the dismay of her
+own.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He told&mdash;you&mdash;that&mdash;<span style="white-space: nowrap;">that&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That my father is still alive. He would, I think have told me more;
+all that there <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>may be yet to tell, if he had not so suddenly been stricken. Where is
+my father?&#8221;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 345px;">
+<img src="images/i220.jpg"  class="illogap" width="345" height="500" alt="&#8220;WHERE IS MY FATHER?&#8221;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#8220;WHERE IS MY FATHER?&#8221;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! child, child! Don&#8217;t ask me. It is not for <span style="white-space: nowrap;">me&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If uncle cannot and you can, and there is no other person,
+Angelique&mdash;you must!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This much, then. It is in a far, far away city, or town, or place, he
+lives. I know not, I. This much I know. He is good, a ver&#8217; good man.
+And he have enemies. Yes. They have done him much harm. Some day, in
+many years, maybe when you have grown a woman, old like me, he will
+come to Peace Island and forget. That is why we wait. That is why the
+master goes, once each summer, on the long, long trip. When Joseph
+comes, and the bad Pierre to stay. I, too, wait to see him though I
+never have. And when he comes, we must be ver&#8217; tender, me and you, for
+people who have been done wrong to, they&mdash;<span style="white-space: nowrap;">they&mdash;&mdash;</span> Pouf! &#8217;Twas anger I
+was that the master could put the evil-come into that room, yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Angelique! Is that my father&#8217;s room? Is it? Is that why there are the
+very best things in it? And that wonderful picture? And the fresh
+suits of clothing? Is it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Angelique slowly nodded. She had been amazed to find that Margot knew
+thus much of a long withheld history, and saw no harm in adding these
+few facts. The real secret, the heart of the matter&mdash;that was not yet.
+Meanwhile, let the child accustom herself to the new ideas and so be
+prepared for what she must certainly learn, should the master&#8217;s
+illness be a fatal one.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! then, hear me. That room shall always now be mine to care for. I
+haven&#8217;t liked the housewifery, not at all. But if I have a father and
+I can do things for him&mdash;that alters everything. Oh! you can&#8217;t mean
+that it will be so long before he comes. You must have been jesting.
+If he knew uncle was ill he would come at once, wouldn&#8217;t he? He would,
+I know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Poor Angelique turned her face away to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>hide its curious expression,
+but in her new interest concerning the &#8220;friend&#8217;s room,&#8221; as it had
+always been called, Margot did not notice this. She was all eagerness
+and loving excitement.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;To think that I have a father who may come, at any minute, for he
+might, Angelique, you know that, and not be ready for him. Your best
+and newest broom, please; and the softest dusters. That room shall,
+indeed, be cleaned better than anybody else could do it. Just hurry,
+please, I must begin. I must begin right away.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She trembled so that she could hardly braid and pin up her long hair
+out of the way, and her face had regained more than its old-time
+color. She was content to let all that was still a mystery remain for
+the present. She had enough to think about and enjoy.</p>
+
+<p>Angelique brought the things that would be needed and, for once,
+forbore advice. Let love teach the child&mdash;she had nought to say. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>In
+any case she could not have seen the dust, herself, for her dark eyes
+were misty with tears, and her thoughts on matters wholly foreign to
+household cares.</p>
+
+<p>Margot opened the windows and began to dust the various articles which
+could be set out in the wide passage, and did not come round to the
+heavy dresser for some moments. As she did so, finally, her glance
+flew instantly to a bulky parcel, wrapped in sheets of white
+birch-bark, and bearing her own name, in Adrian&#8217;s handwriting.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, he did remember me, then!&#8221; she cried, delightedly, tearing the
+package open. &#8220;Pictures! the very ones I liked the best. Xanthipp&eacute; and
+Socrates, and oh! that&#8217;s Reynard! Reynard! Reynard, ready to speak!
+The splendid, beautiful creature! and the splendid, generous boy to
+have given it. He called it his &#8216;masterpiece&#8217; and, indeed, it was by
+far the best he ever did here. Harmony Hollow&mdash;but that&#8217;s not so fine.
+However, he meant to make it like, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">and&mdash;&mdash;</span> Why, here&#8217;s a note. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>Why
+didn&#8217;t I come in here before? Why didn&#8217;t I think he would do something
+like this? Forgive me, Adrian, wherever you are, for misjudging you
+so. I&#8217;m sorry uncle didn&#8217;t like you and sorry&mdash;for lots of things. But
+I&#8217;m glad, glad you weren&#8217;t so rude and mean as I believed. If I ever
+see you I&#8217;ll tell you so. Now, I&#8217;ll put these in my own room and then
+get to work again. This room you left so messed shall be as spotless
+as a snowflake before I&#8217;m done with it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>For hours she labored there, brushing, renovating, polishing; and when
+all was finished she called Angelique to see and criticise&mdash;if she
+could! But she could not; and she, too, had something now of vital
+importance to impart.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is beautiful&#8217; done, yes, yes. I couldn&#8217;t do it more clean myself,
+I, Angelique, no. But, my child! Hear, hear, and be calm! The master
+is himself! The master has awoke, yes, and is askin&#8217; for his child!
+True, true. Old Joe, he says, &#8216;Come. Quick, soft, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>no cry, no laugh,
+just listen.&#8217; Yes. Oh! now all will be well.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot almost hushed her very breathing. Her uncle awake, sane, asking
+for her! Her face was radiant, flushed, eager, a face to brighten the
+gloom of any sick room, however dark.</p>
+
+<p>But this one was not dark. Joe knew his patient&#8217;s fancies. He had
+forgotten none. One of them was the sunshine and fresh air; and though
+in his heart he believed that these two things did a world of harm,
+and that the ill-ventilated and ill-lighted cabins of his own people
+were more conducive to recovery, he opposed nothing which the master
+desired. He had experimented, at first, but finding a close room
+aggravated Mr. Dutton&#8217;s fever, reasoned that it was too late to break
+up the foolish habits of a man&#8217;s lifetime; and as the woodlander had
+lived in the sunlight so he would better die in it, and easier.</p>
+
+<p>If she had been a trained nurse Margot could not have entered her
+uncle&#8217;s presence <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>more quietly, though it seemed to her that he must
+hear the happy beating of her heart and how her breath came fast and
+short. He was almost too weak to speak at all, but there was all the
+old love, and more, in his whispered greeting:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My precious child!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, uncle. And such a happy child because you are better.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She caught his hand and covered it with kisses, but softly, oh! so
+softly, and he smiled the rare sweet smile that she had feared she&#8217;d
+never see again. Then he looked past her to Angelique in the doorway
+and his eyes moved toward his desk in the corner. A little fanciful
+desk that held only his most sacred belongings and had been Margot&#8217;s
+mother&#8217;s. It was to be hers some day, but not till he had done with
+it, and she had never cared to own it since doing so meant that he
+could no longer use it. Now she watched him and Angelique wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>For the woman knew exactly what was required. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>Without question or
+hesitation she answered the command of his eyes by crossing to the
+desk and opening it with a key she took from her own pocket. Then she
+lifted a letter from an inner drawer and gave it into his thin
+fingers.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well done, good Angelique. Margot&mdash;the letter&mdash;is yours.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mine? I am to read it? Now? Here?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, no. No, no, indeed! Would you tire the master with the rustlin&#8217;
+of paper? Take it else. Not here, where ever&#8217;thin&#8217; must be still as
+still.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dutton&#8217;s eyes closed. Angelique knew that she had spoken for him
+and that the disclosure which that letter would make should be faced
+in solitude.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is she right, uncle, dearest? Shall I take it away to read?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>His eyes assented, and the tender, reassuring pressure of his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;m going to your own mountain top with it. To think of having a
+letter from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>you, right here at home! Why, I can hardly wait! I&#8217;m so
+thankful to you for it, and so thankful to God that you are getting
+well. That you will be soon; and then&mdash;why, then&mdash;we&#8217;ll go a-fishing!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A spasm of pain crossed the sick man&#8217;s wasted features and poor
+Angelique fled the place, forgetful of her own caution to &#8220;be still as
+still,&#8221; and with her own dark face convulsed with grief for the grief
+which the letter would bring to her idolized Margot.</p>
+
+<p>But the girl had already gone away up the slope, faster and faster.
+Surely a letter from nobody but her uncle and at such a solemn time
+must concern but one subject&mdash;her father. Now she would know all, and
+her happiness should have no limit.</p>
+
+<p>But it was nightfall when she, at last, came down from the mountain,
+and though there were no signs of tears upon her face neither was
+there any happiness in it.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+<h3>A QUESTION OF APPAREL</h3>
+
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">The</span> master.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He wants me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Joe nodded and went out of doors. But it was noticeable that he merely
+walked around to the rear of the sick room and stationed himself
+beside the open window. Not that he might overhear the conversation
+within, but to be near if he were needed. He cast one stern look upon
+Margot, as he summoned her, and was evidently reassured by her own
+calmness.</p>
+
+<p>Three days had passed since she had been given that fateful letter,
+and she had had time to think over its startling contents in every
+connection. There was now not the slightest blame of her guardian for
+having so long kept her in ignorance of her father&#8217;s existence; and,
+indeed, her love had been <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>strengthened, if that were possible. The
+sick man had gained somewhat, though he was yet very weak and recovery
+was still a question. But, with improvement, came again the terrible
+restlessness and impatience with the circumstances which kept him a
+prisoner in bed, when, of all times in the year, he would be up and
+abroad.</p>
+
+<p>When the child entered the room he was watching for her, eagerly,
+anxiously. How had she borne his news? How would she greet him?</p>
+
+<p>Her first glance answered him. It was so tender, so pitiful, so
+strong.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My darling! My own Margot! I&mdash;need not&mdash;have feared.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There is nothing to fear, dearest uncle. Fear must have been done
+with years ago, when&mdash;when&mdash;it happened. Now, now, it is time for
+hope, for confidence.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head mournfully. Then he asked:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will let it make no difference in your <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>love, your loyalty to
+him, when&mdash;when he comes? If he lives to come?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If he had been a father who did not come because he would not, then,
+maybe, I don&#8217;t know. But a father who could not come, who has been so
+cruelly, frightfully wronged&mdash;why, uncle! all my life, no matter how
+long, all my care and devotion, no matter how great, will never, never
+be able to express one-half of my love. And I bless you more for your
+faithfulness to him than for all you&#8217;ve ever done for me&mdash;yet even my
+debt to you is boundless.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My own impulsive, overgrateful Margot! As if it had not been also all
+my life, my happiness. Well, since I cannot go, you must write to him.
+For me and for yourself. Explaining why I cannot come, just yet, but
+that I will as soon as may be. Make it a letter such as you have
+talked just now and it will be better to his hungry heart than even a
+sight of his old friend and brother.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will write as many letters for you as you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>please, but&mdash;I will
+deliver them in person.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He did not get the full import of her words, at first, but when he did
+he frowned. It hurt him beyond expression that she should jest on such
+a subject, even for the laudable purpose of cheering himself.</p>
+
+<p>Then he felt her cool hand on his wrist.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Uncle, I mean it. I have thought it over and over. I have thought of
+nothing else, except that you were getting better, and I know I am
+right. I am going to see my father. I am going to get my father. I
+shall never come back without him. But I shall certainly come, and he
+with me. You cannot go. I can, I want to, beyond telling. I must.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A thousand objections flashed through his mind and the struggle to
+comprehend just what were and were not valid ones wearied him. For
+some time neither of them spoke again, but clasped hands until he fell
+into a sudden sleep. Even then Margot did not release her hold, though
+her cramped position <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>numbed her arm, and her impatience to make him
+see matters from her point of view was hard to control. But he awoke
+almost as suddenly as he had dozed, and with a clear idea of her
+meaning. After all, how simple it was! and what an infinite relief to
+his anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Tell me what you think.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This: My father must not be disappointed. Your visit, the one link
+that connects him with his old life and happiness, is impossible. Each
+year you have taken him reports of me and how I grew. I&#8217;m going to
+show him whether you represented me as I am or as your partial eyes
+behold me. More than that, I must go. I must see him. I must put my
+arms about his neck and tell him that I love him, as my mother loved
+him, with all his child&#8217;s affection added. I must. It is my right.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But&mdash;how. You&#8217;ve never been beyond the forest. You are so young and
+ignorant of&mdash;everything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Maybe I shall do all the better for that reason. &#8216;Know nothing, fear
+nothing,&#8217; and I certainly am not afraid. We are looking for Pierre to
+come home, any day. He should have been here long ago. As soon as he
+comes I will start. Old Joseph shall go with me. He knows what I do
+not, of towns and routes, and all those troublesome things. You will
+give us the money it will cost; and enough to pay for my father&#8217;s
+coming home. I have made his room ready. There isn&#8217;t a speck or spot
+in it, and there are fresh flowers every day. There have been ever
+since I knew that room was his. I shall go to that city of New York
+where&mdash;where it happened, and I shall find out the truth. I shall
+certainly bring him home with me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was absurd. He said that to himself, not once but many times; yet
+despite his common sense and his bitter experience, he could not but
+catch something of her hopefulness. Yet so much the more hard to bear
+would be her disappointment.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Dear, I have no right, it may be, to stop you. It was agreed upon
+between us that, when you were sixteen years old, if nothing happened
+to make it unnecessary, you should be told. That is, if I believed you
+had a character which could endure sorrow and not turn bitter under
+it. I do so believe, I know. But though you may make the journey, if
+you wish and it can be arranged safely, you must not even hope to do
+more than see your father and that only for a brief time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot smiled. The same bright, unconvinced smile with which she had
+always received any astonishing statement. When, not much more than a
+baby, she had been told that fire would burn, she had laughed her
+unbelief that fire would burn, and had thrust her small hand into the
+flame. The fire had burned, but she had still smiled, and bravely,
+though her lips trembled and there were tears upon her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I must go, uncle. It is my right, and his. I must try this matter for
+myself. I shall <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>never be happy else and I shall succeed. I shall. I
+trust in God. You have taught me that He never fails those who trust
+in Him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Have I not trusted? Have I not prayed? Did I not labor till labor was
+useless? But, there, child. Not for me to darken your faith. His ways
+are not as our ways, else this had never come. But you shall go. You
+are right; and may He prosper your devotion!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She saw that he was tired and, having gained his consent, went gladly
+away to Angelique, to consult with that disturbed person concerning
+her journey.</p>
+
+<p>Angelique heard this strange announcement with incredulity. The master
+was delirious again. That was the explanation. Else he would never,
+never have consented for this outrageous journey from Pontius to
+Pilate, with only a never-say-anything old Indian for escort.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you&#8217;re part Indian yourself, sweet Angelique, so don&#8217;t abuse your
+own race. As <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>for knowing nothing, who but Joe could have brought my
+uncle through this dreadful sickness so well? I believe it is all a
+beautiful plan.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, we&#8217;ll see. If Adrian had not come, maybe my uncle would never
+have told me all he has. The letter was written, you know that,
+because he feared he might not live to tell it with his lips. And even
+when he was getting better he thought I still should learn the truth,
+and the written pages held it all. I&#8217;m so glad I know. Oh! Angelique,
+think! How happy, how happy we shall be when my father comes home!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Tis that bad Pierre who should be comin&#8217;, yes. Wait till I get my
+hands about his ears.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pierre&#8217;s too big to have his ears boxed. I don&#8217;t wonder he hates it.
+I think I would&mdash;would box back again if anybody treated me to that
+indignity.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pst. Pouf! you are you, and Pierre is Pierre; and as long as he is in
+the world and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>I am, if his ears need boxin&#8217;, I shall box them. I, his
+mother.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! very well. Suit yourself. But now, Angelique!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well? I must go set the churn. Yes, I&#8217;ve wasted too much time,
+already, bein&#8217; taught my manners by a chit of a thing like you. Yes. I
+have so. Indeed, yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Come, Angelique. Be good. When you were young, and lived in the
+towns, did the girls who went a-journeying wear bonnets?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did they not? And the good Book that the master reads o&#8217; nights,
+sayin&#8217; the women must cover their heads. Hmm. I&#8217;ve thought a many time
+how his readin&#8217; and his rearin&#8217; didn&#8217;t go hand in glove. Bonnets,
+indeed! Have I not the very one I wore when I came to Peace Island. A
+charmin&#8217; thing, all green ribbons and red roses. I shall wear it
+again, to my Pierre&#8217;s weddin&#8217;. &#8217;Tis for that I&#8217;ve been savin&#8217; it. And,
+well, because a body has no need to wear out bonnets on this bit of
+land in water. No.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p><p>But Angelique was a true woman; and once upon the subject of dress her
+mind refused to be drawn thence. She recalled items of what had been
+her own trousseau, ignoring Margot&#8217;s ridicule of the clumsy Pierre as
+a bridegroom, and even her assertion that: &#8220;I should pity his wife,
+for I expect her ears would have to be boxed, also.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Come yon. I&#8217;ve that I will show you. &#8217;Tis your mother&#8217;s own lovely
+clothes. Just as she wore them here, and carefully folded away for you
+till you needed them. Well, that is now, I suppose, if you&#8217;re to be
+let gad all over the earth, with as good a home as girl ever had right
+here in the peaceful woods.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! show them to me, Angelique. Quick. Why have you never before? Of
+course, I shall need them now. And, Angelique! That is some more of
+the beautiful plan. The working out of the pattern. Else why should
+there be the clothes here when I need clothes? Answer me that, good
+Angelique, if you can.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Pst. &#8217;Twas always a bothersome child for questions. But answer one
+yourself. If you had had them before would you have had them ready
+now, and the pleasure of them? No. No, indeed. But come. The clothes
+and then the churnin&#8217;. If that Pierre were here, &#8217;twould not be my
+arms would have to ache this night with the dash, dash, dashin&#8217;. No.
+No, indeed, no. But come.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Alas! Of all the carefully preserved and dainty garments there was not
+one which Margot could wear.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, Angelique! What a tiny thing she must have been! I can&#8217;t get
+even my hand through the wrist of this sleeve. And look here. This
+skirt is away up as short as my own. If I&#8217;ve to wear short ones I&#8217;ll
+not change at all. In the pictures, I&#8217;ve seen lovely ladies with
+skirts on the ground and I thought that was the way I should look if I
+ever went into the world.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Eh? What? Lovely? You? Hmm. Lovely is that lovely does. Vanity is a
+disgrace <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>to any woman. Has not the master said that often and often?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot flushed. She was not conscious of vanity, yet she did not
+question Angelique&#8217;s opinion. But she rallied.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think I should feel at all vain if I put on any of these
+things. That is, if I could even get them on. I should all the time be
+thinking how uncomfortable I was. Well, that&#8217;s settled. I wear my own
+clothes, and not even my dear mother&#8217;s. Hers I will always keep for
+her sake; but to her great daughter they are useless. And I&#8217;ll go
+bareheaded just as here. Why not? I certainly don&#8217;t need a bonnet,
+with all this hair.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Now Margot&#8217;s hair was Angelique&#8217;s especial pride. Indeed, it was a
+wonderful glory upon that shapely young head; but again this was not
+to be admitted.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hair! What&#8217;s hair? Not but you&#8217;ve enough of it for three women, for
+that matter. But it will not do to go that way. It must be braided and
+pinned fast. Here is a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>bonnet, not so gay as mine, and I would trust
+you with that&mdash;<span style="white-space: nowrap;">only&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wouldn&#8217;t wear it, dear Angelique. It&#8217;s lovely and kind for you to
+even think of offering. You must keep that for Pierre&#8217;s wife, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">and&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should like to see her with it on! Huh! Indeed! Pouf!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There are hats enough of my own mother&#8217;s, and to wear one may be
+another piece of your &#8216;good luck.&#8217; I shall wear this one. It is all
+blue like my frocks, and the little brown ribbon is the color of my
+shoes. Adrian would say that was &#8216;artistic,&#8217; if he were here. Oh!
+Angelique! When I go to that far city, do you suppose I shall see
+Adrian? Do you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you go there to break your uncle&#8217;s heart again? &#8217;Tis not Adrian
+you will see, ever again, I hope. No. Indeed, no. See. This shawl. It
+goes so;&#8221; and Angelique adjusted the soft, rich fabric around her own
+shoulders, put a hat jauntily upon her head, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>and surveyed the effect
+with undisguised admiration, as reflected in the little mirror in the
+lid of the big trunk.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Angelique! Angelique, take care! &#8216;Vanity is a disgrace to any woman!&#8217;
+What if that misguided Pierre should see you now? What would he think
+of <span style="white-space: nowrap;">his&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Hark! What was that? How dared old Joseph tramp through the house at
+such a pace, with such a noise? and the master still so weak. <span style="white-space: nowrap;">Why&mdash;&mdash;</span></p>
+
+<p>The indignant house-mistress disappeared with indignation blazing in
+her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Margot, also, stood still in the midst of her finery, listening and
+almost as angry as the other; till there came back to her another
+sound so familiar and reassuring that her fears were promptly
+banished, while one more anxiety was lifted from her heart.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+
+<h3>COMING AND GOING</h3>
+
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">Pierre</span>! and Angelique is boxing his ears! My, what a whack, that I
+can hear it way in here! I must to the rescue, but his coming makes
+right for me to go. Angelique, Angelique, don&#8217;t! Heigho, Pierre! I&#8217;m
+glad you&#8217;re back!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But if he heard this welcome he did not heed it, and Margot stood
+amazed at the ridiculous scene upon which she had entered.</p>
+
+<p>There was Angelique, still arrayed in her own flower-bedecked bonnet
+and her mistress&#8217; India shawl, being whirled about the big kitchen in
+a crazy sort of waltz which seemed to suit the son&#8217;s excited mood. Her
+bonnet sat rakishly on one side and the rich shawl dragged over the
+floor, which, fortunately, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>was too clean to harm it; but amidst her
+enforced exercises, the mother continued to aim those resounding blows
+at her son&#8217;s great ears. Sometimes they hit the mark, but at others
+fell harmlessly upon his broad shoulders. In any case, they seemed not
+to disturb him but rather to add to the homelikeness of his return.</p>
+
+<p>At length, however, he released his irate parent and held out his hand
+to Margot.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Done the old lady heap of good. How&#8217;s things? How&#8217;s the menagerie?
+and the master?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hey? Where&#8217;s the manners I&#8217;ve always taught you? Askin&#8217; for the
+master last when &#8217;tis he is always first. Yes. Yes, indeed. But,
+Pierre, &#8217;twas nigh no master at all you came home to. He&#8217;s been at
+death&#8217;s door for weeks. Even <span style="white-space: nowrap;">yet&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Then Angelique turned and saw Margot, whose presence she had not
+before observed. But she rallied instantly, turning her sentence into
+a brisk command:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Even yet, the churnin&#8217; not done and it goin&#8217; on to measure nine
+o&#8217;clock. Get to the dasher, lad, and tie this big apron round your
+neck. Then change that dirty shirt. That a child of mine should wear
+such filthy things. Pouf! you were always the torment; that is so.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Just the same, Angelique, dear, your eyes are shining like stars, and
+you are happier than you have been a single minute since that bad boy
+of yours paddled away in the night. If he&#8217;s to churn I&#8217;m to sit beside
+him and hear all his long story first. Come on, Pierre! Oh! how good
+it is to have you back!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was, also, most delightful to the mother, even though her happiness
+expressed itself in a peculiar way, by grumbling and scolding as she
+had not done once since real trouble fell upon that home, with the
+illness of its master.</p>
+
+<p>The churn stood outside the kitchen door, for Angelique would allow no
+chance of spilled cream on her scoured boards; so Margot <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>settled
+herself on the door-step and listened while the wanderer gave her a
+long and detailed account of his journey. Meanwhile, and at every few
+minutes, his mother would step to his side, take the dasher from his
+hand and force a bit of food within it. He devoured this greedily,
+though he made no comment, and resumed his churning as soon as the
+tid-bit was consumed. Through all, Angelique&#8217;s face was beaming and
+her lips fretting, till Margot laughed aloud.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! Angelique Ricord! Of all the odd people you are the oddest!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So? Well, then. How many odd people have you seen, my child that you
+should be so fine a judge? So that evil-come departed to his own, he
+did? May his shadow never darken this door again! &#8217;Twas all along of
+him the trouble came.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, Angelique, you forget. It must have been the broken glass! How
+could it possibly have been anything else? Never mind, sweetheart;
+when I come home from my long journey <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>I will bring you a new one, big
+and clear, and that has the power to make even plain folks look
+lovely. If my uncle will let me. Dear, but I do wish you had a bit,
+this minute, to see how silly you look with that big bonnet on!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Angelique&#8217;s hand flew to her head in comic dismay. She had carefully
+removed and refolded the beautiful shawl, but had quite forgotten her
+other adornment, which she now tore off in a haste that threatened
+damage to the precious possession.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pierre, bid her be careful. That is your wife&#8217;s bonnet!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Even the housekeeper had to smile at this and listen patiently while
+Margot made much of the incident. Indeed, she would have willingly
+been laughed at indefinitely, if thus she could herself hear these
+young voices gay with the old-time unconcern.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And Adrian was good to the poor, wild things. Well, I have hopes of
+Adrian. He didn&#8217;t have the right sort of rearing to know <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>how the
+forest people feel, but he learned fast. I&#8217;m thankful, thankful,
+Pierre Ricord, that you had to lose those fine antlers. If you&#8217;d sold
+them and made a lot of money by it, you would have forgotten that the
+moose could suffer and have killed many more. As it is, better one
+should die than many. And Pierre, I&#8217;m going away myself. Now that
+you&#8217;ve come home, I&#8217;m going at once. Old Joseph and I. Clear to that
+far away New York where Adrian has gone, and to many other places,
+too.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Pierre dropped the dasher with such force that the &#8220;half-brought&#8221;
+butter, which Angelique was opening the churn to &#8220;scrape down
+together,&#8221; splashed out over the step, Margot&#8217;s lap, and the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Angelique was too indignant to speak, but Margot cried:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! Pierre! How careless and wasteful. We&#8217;ve none too much butter,
+anyway.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The lad still stared, open-mouthed. After a minute he asked:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;What&#8217;s that you said? About that New York?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m going to New York. I&#8217;m going in my uncle&#8217;s place, to attend to my
+uncle&#8217;s business. Old Joe is to go with me to take care of me&mdash;or I of
+him&mdash;and you are to stay here with the master and your mother. You may
+bring King Madoc over if you wish; and, by the way, how did you get
+here, if you have lost your own canoe?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Helped myself to one of Joe&#8217;s. Helped myself to a breakfast, too.
+Joe&#8217;s stocked up for winter, already. But, I say, Margot. He&#8217;s no use
+in a big city. Better take me. I was goin&#8217; anyway, only after
+that&mdash;well, that grave, I made up my mind I&#8217;d just step back here a
+spell and take a fresh start. I&#8217;m ready, any minute, and Joe hates it.
+Hey?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wouldn&#8217;t trust myself with you a dozen miles. You&#8217;re too foolish
+and fickle. Joe is steady and faithful. It&#8217;s settled. I think,
+Angelique, that we can start to-morrow. Don&#8217;t you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p><p>Angelique sighed. All her happiness was once more overclouded. Why
+couldn&#8217;t well enough be let alone? However, she answered nothing. She
+had sometimes ventured to grumble even at the master but she had never
+questioned his decisions. If it was by his will that her inexperienced
+darling was to face the dangers of an unknown world, with nobody but a
+glum old Indian to serve her, of course, there was nothing for it but
+submission.</p>
+
+<p>At daybreak the next morning, Margot stood beside her uncle&#8217;s bed,
+clasping his thin hands in parting. His eyes were sad and anxious, but
+hers were bright and full of confidence. He had given his last advice;
+she had ample money for all possible needs, with directions upon whom
+to call for more, should anything arise for which they had not
+prepared, and she had, also, her route marked out on paper, with
+innumerable suggestions about this or that stop; and now, there was
+nothing more to do or say but add his blessing and farewell.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 365px;">
+<img src="images/i253.jpg" class="illogap jpg" width="365" height="500" alt="HIS BIRCH CANOE PULLED STEADILY AWAY" title="" />
+<span class="caption">HIS BIRCH CANOE PULLED STEADILY AWAY</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Good-bye, Margot. Into God&#8217;s hands I give you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The same Hands, uncle, which have cared for me always. I shall come
+back and bring our loved one with me. Get well fast, to make him happy
+when he comes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A hasty kiss to Angelique who was sobbing herself ill, a clasp of
+Pierre&#8217;s hand, and she was gone. Joe&#8217;s birch was pulling steadily away
+from the Island of Peace into that outside world of strife and
+contention, of which the young voyager was so wholly ignorant.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes were wet and her heart ached, with that same sort of physical
+distress which had assailed her when Adrian went away, but now much
+sharper. Yet her lips still smiled and Joseph, furtively regarding
+her, was satisfied. She would give him no trouble.</p>
+
+<p>A few miles&#8217; journey and she had entered what seemed like fairyland.
+She had then no time for looking back or remembering. The towns were
+wonderful, and the first time that she saw a young girl of her own age
+she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>stared until the stranger made a grimace toward her. This
+perplexed and annoyed her, but taught her a lesson: she stared no
+more.</p>
+
+<p>Yet she saw everything; and in that little book her uncle had provided
+for this object made notes of her impressions, to be discussed with
+him upon her return. Her first ride behind horses made her laugh
+aloud. They were so beautiful and graceful and their strength so
+appealed to her animal-loving heart. The ricketty buck-board, which
+was their first vehicle, seemed luxurious, though after a few miles&#8217;
+jogging over a corduroy-road she confided to Joseph that she preferred
+a canoe.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Umm. No shakeum up.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A stage drawn by four steeds, rather the worse for wear, yet with the
+accompaniment of fellow-travelers and a musical horn, brought memories
+of Cinderella and other childish heroines, and made the old tales
+real; but when they reached the railway and stepped <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>into a car her
+interest grew painfully intense. When the conductor paused to take
+their tickets, obligingly procured for this odd pair by the
+stage-driver, Margot immediately requested to be put upon the engine.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The engine! Well, upon my word!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I&#8217;ve never seen one, except the one in front of this car-train.
+I know how they operate but I would so dearly like to see them working
+close at hand. Can&#8217;t I?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The brass-buttoned official made no reply, save to purse his lips and
+utter another low whistle; but he gave Margot and Joe a critical
+survey and reflected that of all the passengers he had ever carried
+these were the most unique. There was something in the girl&#8217;s
+intelligent face that was hard to deny, and for all his silence,
+perhaps because of it, a certain dignity about the Indian that won
+favor even for him.</p>
+
+<p>It was a way-train on a branch road; one of the connecting links
+between the wilderness and the land of the &#8220;through express&#8221; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>else it
+might not have happened that, after so long a time had elapsed that
+Margot felt her request was indeed refused, the conductor returned and
+whispered in her ear. It was a concession, not to be made general; but
+she was informed:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve spoken to the engineer and he says he doesn&#8217;t mind. Not if
+you&#8217;ll ask no questions and won&#8217;t bother.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll not. And I thank you very much.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hmm. She may be a backwoods girl but she can give a lesson in manners
+to many a city miss,&#8221; thought the obliging guide, as he led Margot
+forward through the few cars toward the front; and, at the next stop,
+helped her to the ground and up again into the little shut-in space
+beside the grimy driver of this wonderful iron horse.</p>
+
+<p>Margot never forgot that ride; nor the man at the lever his unknown
+passenger. She had left her obnoxious bonnet upon the seat beside old
+Joseph and her hair had broken from its unaccustomed braid to its
+habitual <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>freedom, so that it enveloped her and streamed behind her
+like a cloud. Her trim short skirt, her heelless shoes, her absence of
+&#8220;flummery&#8221; aroused the engineer&#8217;s admiration and he volunteered, what
+he had previously declined to give, all possible information
+concerning his beloved locomotive. He even allowed her, for one brief
+moment to put her own hand on the lever and feel the thrill of that
+resistless plunging forward into space.</p>
+
+<p>It was only when they stopped again and she knew she ought to go back
+to Joe that she ventured to speak.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I never enjoyed anything so much in my life, nor learned so much in
+so short a time. I wish&mdash;I wish&mdash;have you a sister, or a little girl?
+Or anybody you love very much?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, yes. I&#8217;ve got the nicest little girl in the United States. She&#8217;s
+three years old and as cute as they make &#8217;em.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve given me pleasure, I&#8217;d like to give her as much. May she have
+this from me, to get&mdash;whatever a town child would like?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Sure, miss, it&#8217;s too much; <span style="white-space: nowrap;">but&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Margot was gone, and on the engineer&#8217;s palm shone a bright gold coin.
+All Mr. Dutton&#8217;s money was in specie and he had given Margot a liberal
+amount of &#8220;spending money&#8221; for her trip. Money being a thing she knew
+as little about as she did traveling he had determined to let her
+learn its value by experience; yet even he might have been a trifle
+shocked by the liberality of this, her first &#8220;tip.&#8221; However, she saw
+only the gratitude that leaped into the trainman&#8217;s eyes and was glad
+that she had had the piece handy in her pocket.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, delightful as the novelty of their long journey was, Margot found
+it wearisome; and the nearer she reached its end the more a new and
+uncomfortable anxiety beset her. Joseph said nothing. He had never
+complained nor admired, and as far as sociability was concerned he
+might have been one of those other, wooden Indians which began to
+appear on the streets of the towns, before shops where tobacco was
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>sold. She looked at Joe, sometimes, wondering if he saw these
+effigies of his race and what were his opinions on the matter. But his
+face remained stolid and she decided that he was indifferent to all
+such slight affairs.</p>
+
+<p>It was when they first stepped out of their train into the great
+station at New York, that the full realization of her undertaking came
+to her. Even Joseph&#8217;s face now showed some emotion, of dismay and
+bewilderment, and her own courage died in that babel of noises and the
+crowding rush of people, everywhere.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, what has happened? Surely, there must have been some fearful
+accident, or they would not all hurry so.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Then she saw among the crowd, men in a uniform she recognized, from
+the description her uncle had once given her, and remembered that he
+had then told her if ever she were in a strange place and needed help
+it was to such officers she should apply. When this advice had been
+given, a year before, neither <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>had imagined it would so soon be
+useful. But it was with infinite relief that she now clutched Joseph&#8217;s
+hand and impelled him to go with her. Gaining the side of an officer,
+she caught his arm and demanded:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What is the matter? Where are all the people hurrying to?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why&mdash;nowhere, in special. Why?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The policeman had, also, been hastening forward as if his life
+depended upon his reaching a certain spot at a certain time, but now
+he slackened his speed and walked quietly along beside this odd girl,
+at the same moment keeping his eye upon a distant group of gamins bent
+on mischief. It had been toward them he had made such speed, but a
+brother officer appearing near them he turned his attention upon
+Margot and her escort.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! I thought there was something wrong. Is it always such a racketty
+place? This New York?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Always. Why, &#8217;tis quiet here to-day, compared to some.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Are you an officer of the law? Is it your business to take care of
+strangers?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, yes. I suppose so.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Can I trust you? Somebody must direct me. I was to take a cab and
+go&mdash;to this address. But I don&#8217;t know what a cab is from any other
+sort of wagon. Will you help me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Certainly. Give me the card.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot handed him the paper with the address of the old friend with
+whom her uncle wished her to stop while she was in the city; but the
+moment the policeman looked at it his face fell.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, there isn&#8217;t any such place, now. All them houses has been torn
+down to put up a sky-scraper. They were torn down six months ago.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, how can that be? This lady has lived in that house all her life,
+my uncle said. She is a widow, very gentle and refined: she was quite
+poor; though once she had plenty of money. She took boarders, to keep
+a roof over her head; and it isn&#8217;t at all likely <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>that she would tear
+it down and so destroy her only income. You must be mistaken. Won&#8217;t
+you ask somebody else, who knows more about the city, please?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The officer bridled, and puffed out his mighty chest. Was not he &#8220;one
+of the finest&#8221;? as the picked policemen are termed. If he didn&#8217;t know
+the streets of the metropolis, who did?</p>
+
+<p>Margot saw that she had made a serious mistake. Her head turned giddy,
+the crowd seemed to surge and close about her, and with a sense of
+utter failure and homesickness she fainted away.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+
+<h3>IN THE GREAT RAILWAY STATION</h3>
+
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">There</span>, dear, you are better. Drink this.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot opened her eyes in the big waiting-room for women at the great
+station. A kind-faced woman in a white cap and apron was bending over
+her and holding a cup of bouillon to her lips, which obediently opened
+and received the draught with grateful refreshment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you. That is good. Where am I? Who are you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The attendant explained: and added, with intent to comfort:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are all right. You will be cared for. It was the long going
+without food and the sudden confusion of arrival. The Indian says you
+have not eaten in a long time. He <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>is here, I could not keep him out.
+Is&mdash;is he safe?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The hot, strong soup, and the comforting presence restored the girl so
+far that she could laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Joe safe? Our own dear old Joseph Wills? Why, madam, he is the very
+best guide in all the state of Maine. Aren&#8217;t you, Joe? And my uncle&#8217;s
+most trusted friend. Else he would not be here with me. What happened
+to me that things got so queer?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You fainted. That&#8217;s all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I? Why, I never did such a thing in my life before.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Joe drew near. His face seemed still impassive but there was a look of
+profound concern in his small, black eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Wouldn&#8217; eat. Get sick. Joe said. Joe hungry, too.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot sat up, instantly, smitten with remorse. If this uncomplaining
+friend admitted hunger she must have been remiss, indeed.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Oh, dear madam! Please get him something to eat, or show him where to
+get it for himself. This last part of the road, or journey, was so
+long. The train didn&#8217;t stop anywhere, hardly, and I saw none of the
+eating places I had seen on the other trains. We were late, too, in
+starting, and had no breakfast. My own head whirls yet, and poor Joe
+must be famished. I have money, plenty, to pay for everything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The station matron called an attendant and put Joe in his charge. She,
+also, ordered a tray of food brought from the restaurant and made
+Margot eat. Indeed, she was now quite ready to do this and heartily;
+and her appetite appeased, she told the motherly woman as much of her
+story as was necessary; asking her advice about a stopping place, and
+if she, too, thought it true that the widow&#8217;s house had been
+demolished.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, miss. I know that myself, for I live not so far from that
+street. It is, or was, an old-fashioned one, and full of big houses
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>that had once been grand but had run down. The property was valuable,
+though, and no doubt the widow bettered herself by selling. More than
+that, if she is still in the city, her name should be in the
+directory. I&#8217;ll look it up and if I find it, telephone her. After we
+do that will be time enough to look for some other place, if she is
+not to be found.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot did not understand all this, and wondered what this quiet,
+orderly person had to do with the starting of trains, which she could
+hear continually moving out and in the monster building, even though
+she could not see them from this inner room. But this wonder was soon
+lost in a fresh surprise as, having consulted a big book which was
+chained to a desk in one corner, the matron came forward, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve found the name, miss. Spelled just as you gave it to me. The
+number is away up town, in Harlem. But I&#8217;ll ring her up and see.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Again the matron crossed the room, toward <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>a queer looking arrangement
+on the wall; but, a new train arriving, the room so filled with women
+and children that she had no more leisure to attend to Margot.
+However, she managed to tell her:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t worry. I&#8217;ll be free soon again, for a minute. And I&#8217;ll tell
+that Indian to sit just outside the door, if you wish. You can sit
+there with him, too, if it makes you feel more at home. You&#8217;re all
+right now, and will not faint again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, indeed. I never did before nor shall again, I hope.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Yet Margot was very thankful when she and Joe were once more side by
+side, and now amused herself in studying the crowds about her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! Joe, there are more &#8216;types&#8217; here in a minute than one could see
+at home in years. Look. That&#8217;s a Swede. I know by the shape of his
+face, and his coloring. Though I never saw a live Swede before.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Wonder if she ever saw a dead one!&#8221; said <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>a voice in passing, and
+Margot knew she had been ridiculed, yet not why. Then, too, she saw
+that many glances were turned upon the bench where she and Joe sat,
+apart from the crowd and, for almost the first time, became conscious
+that in some way she looked not as other people. However, she was
+neither over-sensitive nor given to self-contemplation and she had
+perfect faith in her uncle&#8217;s judgment. He had lived in this great
+city, he knew what was correct. He had told her to ask the widow to
+supply her with anything that was needed. She had nothing to do now
+but wait till the widow was found, and then she could go on about the
+more important business which had brought her hither.</p>
+
+<p>As she remembered that business, her impatience rose. She was now, she
+must be, not only within a few miles of her unknown father, but of the
+man who had wronged him, whom she was to compel to right that wrong.
+She sprang to her feet. The crowd that had filled the waiting-room was
+again thinning, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>for a time, and the matron should be free. Would she
+never come?</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then I&#8217;ll go to her! Stay right here, Joe. Don&#8217;t leave this place a
+minute now till I get back. Then we&#8217;ll not lose each other. I&#8217;ll come
+for you as soon as I can.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Joe grunted his assent and closed his eyes. He, too, was conscious of
+staring eyes and indignant at them. Had nobody ever seen an Indian
+before? Were not these clothes that he was wearing the Master&#8217;s gift
+and of the same sort all these other men wore? Let them gaze, if that
+suited the simple creatures. As for him he was comfortable. The bench
+was no harder than the ground. Not much harder. He would sleep. He
+did.</p>
+
+<p>But Margot found the matron doing a strange thing. She had a long pipe
+running from a box on the wall, and sometimes she was calling into it,
+or a hole beside it, in the most absurd way: &#8220;Hello! Hello, Central!&#8221;
+or else she was holding the tube to her ear and listening.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;What is it? What are you doing?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The telephone. I&#8217;m ringing up your friend. I&#8217;ll tell you what I hear,
+soon.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Even the matron rather objected to having this oddly-dressed,
+inquisitive girl continually at hand, asking questions. She was busy
+and tired, and Margot understood that she was dismissed to her bench
+and Joe.</p>
+
+<p>There she settled herself to think. It was time she did. If this
+friendly widow, whom her family had always known, could not be found,
+where should she go? To some hotel she supposed, and wondered which
+and where.</p>
+
+<p>She was still deep in her musings when the matron touched her arm.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I got an answer. The number is all right. It is the lady&#8217;s home when
+she is in town, but she has been in the country all summer. The
+boarding-house&mdash;it&#8217;s that&mdash;is closed except for the janitor, and he
+doesn&#8217;t know where she has gone. That&#8217;s all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It might be &#8220;all,&#8221; but it made the woodlander&#8217;s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>heart sink. Then she
+looked up and saw a vaguely familiar profile, yet she knew nobody, had
+seen nobody at home, and not even on her journey, whom she could
+remember to have been just like this.</p>
+
+<p>It was the face of a young man, who was dressed like all these other
+city men about her, though with a something different and finer in the
+fit and finish of the light gray suit he wore. A slight moustache
+darkened his upper lip, and he fingered this lovingly, as one might a
+new possession. A gray haired lady leaned lightly on his arm and he
+carried her wraps upon his other. Suddenly she spoke to him, as they
+moved outward toward a suburban train, and he smiled down upon her. It
+was the smile that revealed him&mdash;Adrian.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, how could I fail to know him! Adrian&mdash;then all is right!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She forgot Joe and all else save that retreating figure which she must
+overtake, and dashed across the room regardless of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>people who
+hindered her progress, and among whom she darted with lightning-like
+speed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Adrian! Adrian! <span class="smcap">Adrian!</span>&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Their train was late, the lady had been helped to the last platform,
+and the young man sprang after her just as it was moving out. He heard
+his own name and turned, wondering and startled, to see a light-haired
+girl fiercely protesting against a blue-coated official, who firmly
+barred her passage beyond the stile into the dangerous region of a
+hundred moving cars.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your ticket, miss! Your train&mdash;which is it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ticket! It&#8217;s Adrian I want. Adrian, who has just gone on that
+car&mdash;oh, so fast, so fast! Adrian!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Too bad, miss, and too late. Sorry. The next train out will not be
+many minutes. Likely your friends will wait for you at your station.
+Which is it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My friends? Oh! I don&#8217;t know. I guess&mdash;I guess I haven&#8217;t any.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p><p>She turned away slowly, her heart too heavy for further speech, even
+had there been any speech possible; and there was Joe, the faithful
+and silent, laying his hand on her shoulder and guiding her back to
+their own bench.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;One girl runs away, get lost. Joe go home no more.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Poor Joe, dear Joe. I had no idea of running away. But I saw
+somebody, that boy who was at the island this summer, and I tried to
+make him see me. Too late, as the man said. He has gone, and now we,
+too, must go somewhere. I&#8217;ll ask that nice woman. She&#8217;ll tell us, I
+think,&#8221; and she again sought the matron.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. I do know a good place for you, if&mdash;they&#8217;ll take you in. Meaning
+no harm miss, but you see, you aren&#8217;t fixed just the same, and the
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">Indian&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is it a question of clothes? It&#8217;s not the clothing makes the
+character, my uncle says.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, miss, I suppose not. All the same <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>they go a mighty long way
+toward making friends, leastways in this big city. And <span style="white-space: nowrap;">Indians&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Joe Wills is just as noble and as honest as any white man ever
+lived!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Maybe so. Indeed, I&#8217;m not denying it, but Indians are Indians, and
+some landladies might think of tomahawks.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Margot&#8217;s laugh rang out and the other smiled in sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Joe, Joe! Would you scalp anybody?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Then, indeed, was the red man&#8217;s impassivity broken by a grin, which
+happily relieved the situation, fast becoming tragic.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;m not wise in city ways but I know that I can find a safe
+shelter somewhere. I&#8217;m going to ask that policeman, yonder, to find us
+a place.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s sensible, and I&#8217;ll talk with him myself. If he isn&#8217;t on duty
+likely he&#8217;ll take you to my friend&#8217;s himself. By the way, who was that
+you ran after and called to so loud? <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>You shouldn&#8217;t do that in a big,
+strange station, you know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose not; yet I needed him so, and it was Adrian, who&#8217;s been at
+my own home all summer. If he&#8217;d heard, or seen me, he would have taken
+all the care, because this is where he&#8217;s always lived. The same
+familiar spot that&mdash;that dear Peace Island is to Joe and me,&#8221; she
+said, with a catch in her voice and laying her hand affectionately
+upon his sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Adrian? A Mr. Adrian?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, no. He is a Wadislaw. His father&#8217;s name is Malachi Wadislaw, and
+my business here is with him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Wadislaw, the banker? Why then, of course, it&#8217;s all right. Officer,
+please call a cab and take them to Number &mdash; West Twenty-fifth Street.
+That&#8217;s my friend&#8217;s; and say I sent them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+
+<h3>NUMBER 526</h3>
+
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">Mother</span>, that was Margot!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Wadislaw heard but did not comprehend what Adrian was saying. She
+was flushed and panting from her rush after the retreating train and
+her nerves were excited.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll never, never&mdash;run&mdash;for any car&mdash;in this world, again!&#8221; she
+gasped. &#8220;It&#8217;s dangerous, and&mdash;so&mdash;so uncomfortable. My <span style="white-space: nowrap;">heart&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Poor mother! I&#8217;m sorry. I&#8217;ll get you some water.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The young fellow was excited himself but on quite a different matter;
+yet he knew that nothing could be done for the present and that the
+disturbed lady would take no interest in anything until her own
+agitation was calmed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, no. Don&#8217;t you leave me. Touch <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>the button. Let the porter
+attend&mdash;I&mdash;I am so shaken. I&#8217;ll never, never do it again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He obeyed her and sat down in the easy-chair beside her. She had been
+compelled to run else they had been left behind, and she had been
+hurried from the platform of that last car through the long train to
+their own reserved seats in the drawing-room car.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It was foolish; doubly so, because trains are so frequent. There was
+no need for haste, anyway, was there?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Only this need: that when anybody accepts a dinner invitation one
+should never keep a hostess waiting.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But when the hostess is only your own sister, and daughter?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;One should be most punctilious in one&#8217;s own family. Oh, yes. It is no
+laughing matter, my son, and since you have come home and regained
+your common sense, you must regard all these seeming trifles. Half the
+disagreements and discomforts of life are due to the fact that even
+well-bred people <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>treat their own households with a rudeness they
+would not dare show strangers. Now that you have given up your
+careless habits I shall take care to remind you of all these details,
+and expect to see you a finished society man within a twelvemonth.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, indeed!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Adrian! How can you trifle so? Now when you&#8217;ve so lately been
+restored to me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dearest mother, I am not trifling. I should be, though, if I meant to
+shine nowhere else than at a fashionable dinner-table. There, don&#8217;t
+look worried. I&#8217;ll try not to disgrace you, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">yet&mdash;&mdash;</span> Well, I&#8217;ve learned
+a higher view of life than that. But can you hear me now? That was
+Margot&mdash;woodland Margot&mdash;who saved my life!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense. It couldn&#8217;t be.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It surely was; and I&#8217;m going to ask you to excuse me from this one
+visit so that I can go back and find her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Find her? If it were she, and I&#8217;m positive you are mistaken, of
+course she is not in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>the city alone. Her uncle must be with her, and
+your sister will be deeply hurt if you fail her this first time. At a
+dinner, you know, there are a certain and limited number of guests.
+The failure of one leaves his or her partner in an awkward position.
+You must keep your engagement, even <span style="white-space: nowrap;">if&mdash;&mdash;</span> But, Adrian?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, mother.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You must not exaggerate your obligations to those people. They did
+for you only what anybody would do for a man lost in the woods. By
+their own admission you were worth a great deal to that farmer. Else
+he never would have parted with eighty dollars, as he did. I shall
+always prize the gold piece you brought me; indeed, I mean to have it
+set in a pin and wear it. But this Maine farmer, or lumberman, or
+whatever he is, just drop him out of mind. His very name is
+objectionable to me, and you must never mention it before your father.
+Years ago there was a&mdash;well, something unpleasant with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>some people;
+and, please oblige me by&mdash;by not being disagreeable now. After all my
+anxiety while you were gone and about your father&#8217;s health, I think&mdash;I
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">really&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Adrian slipped his arm across the back of the lady&#8217;s chair and smiled
+upon her, lovingly. He was trying his utmost to make up to her and all
+his family for whatever they had suffered because of his former
+&#8220;misdeeds.&#8221; He had come home full of high resolves and had had his
+sincerity immediately tested by his father&#8217;s demanding that:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If you are in earnest, if you intend to do a son&#8217;s part by us, go
+back into the bank and learn a good business. This &#8216;art&#8217; you talk
+about, what is it? But the shifty resource of a lot of idle fellows.
+Get down to business. Dollars are what count, in this world. Put
+yourself in a place where you can make them, and while I am alive to
+aid you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian&#8217;s whole nature rebelled against this command, yet he had obeyed
+it. And he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>had inwardly resolved that, outside the duties of his
+clerkship, his time was his own and should be devoted to his beloved
+painting.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;After all, some of the world&#8217;s finest pictures have been done by
+those whose leisure was scant. If it&#8217;s in me it will have to come out.
+Some time, in some way, I&#8217;ll live my own life in spite of all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It had hurt him, too, a little that his people so discouraged all
+history of his wanderings.</p>
+
+<p>All of his sisters were married and well-connected, and one of them
+voiced the opinion of all, when she said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your running away, or your behaving so that you had to be sent away,
+is quite disgrace enough. That you are back safe, and sensible, is all
+any of us care to know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But because he was forbidden to talk of his forest experiences he
+dwelt upon them all the more in his own mind; and this afternoon&#8217;s
+glimpse of Margot&#8217;s sunny head had awakened all his former interest.
+Why was she in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>New York? Was the &#8220;master&#8221; with her? He, of whom his
+own mother spoke in such ignorant contempt, as a &#8220;farmer,&#8221; a
+&#8220;lumberman,&#8221; yet who was the most finished scholar and gentleman that
+Adrian had ever met.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I can&#8217;t get home till after that wretched dinner, and I should
+have to wait for the next train, anyway, even if the &#8216;mater&#8217; would let
+me off. I&#8217;ve promised myself to make her happy, dear little woman, if
+I can, and sulking over my own disappointments isn&#8217;t the way to do
+that,&#8221; he reflected. So he roused himself to talk of other matters,
+and naturally of the sister at whose home they were to dine.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t see what made Kate ever marry a warden of state&#8217;s prison. I
+should think life in such a place would be hateful.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That shows how little you know about it, and what a revelation this
+visit will be to you. Why, my dear, she has a beautiful home, with
+horses and carriages at her disposal; her apartments are finely
+furnished <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>and she has one comfort that I have not, or few
+housekeepers in fact.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What is that?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;As many servants as she requires, and at no expense to herself.
+Servants who are absolutely obedient, thoroughly trained, and never
+&#8216;giving notice.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I do not understand.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They are the convicts. Why, they even have an orchestra to play at
+their entertainments, also of convicts; the musical ones to whom the
+playing is a great reward and treat. I believe they are to play
+to-night.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Horror! I hope not. I don&#8217;t want to be served by any poor fellow out
+of a cell.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll not think about that. Not after a little. I don&#8217;t at all, now,
+though I used to, sometimes, when they were first in office. It&#8217;s odd
+that though they&#8217;ve lived at Sing Sing for two years you&#8217;ve not been
+there yet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not so odd, little mother. Kate and I never get along together very
+well. She&#8217;s too dictatorial. Besides, she was always coming <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>home and
+I saw her there. I had no hankering after a prison, myself. And
+speaking of disgrace, I feel that her living in such a place is worse
+than anything I ever did.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Adrian, for a boy who has ordinary intelligence you do say the
+strangest things. The office of warden is an honorable one and well
+paid.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The lad smiled and his mother hastily added:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Besides, it gives an opportunity for befriending the unhappy
+prisoners. Why, there is a <span style="white-space: nowrap;">man&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>She hesitated, looked fixedly at her son as if considering her next
+words, then concluded, rather lamely:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you&#8217;ll see.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She opened her novel and began to read and Adrian also busied himself
+with the evening paper; and presently the station was reached and they
+left the train.</p>
+
+<p>A carriage was in waiting for them, driven by men in livery, and
+altogether quite smart <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>enough to warrant his mother&#8217;s satisfaction as
+they stepped into it and were whirled away to the prison.</p>
+
+<p>But as he had been forewarned, there was no suggestion of anything
+repulsive in the charming apartments they entered, and his sister&#8217;s
+greeting was sufficiently affectionate to make him feel that he had
+misjudged her in the past.</p>
+
+<p>All the guests were in dinner dress and Adrian was appointed to take
+in his own mother, Kate having decided that this would be a happy
+surprise to both parties. They had been the last to arrive and as soon
+as greetings were over the meal was immediately served; but on their
+way toward the dining-room, Mrs. Wadislaw pressed her son&#8217;s arm and
+nodded significantly toward the leader of the palm-hidden orchestra.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Take a look at that man.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. Who is he?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A convict, life sentence. Number 526. He plays divinely, violin.
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">But&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p><p>Again she hesitated and looked sharply into Adrian&#8217;s face. Should she,
+or should she not, tell him the rest? Yes. She must; it would be the
+surest, shortest way of curing his infatuation for those wood people.
+Her boy had spoken of this Margot as a child, yet with profound love
+and admiration. It would be as well to nip any nonsense of that sort
+in the bud. There was only a moment left, they were already taking
+their places at the elegantly appointed table, and she whispered the
+rest:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He is in for robbery and manslaughter,&mdash;your own father the victim.
+His name is Philip Romeyn, and your woodland nonpareil is his
+daughter.&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>FATHER AND SON</h3>
+
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">Mother</span>!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian&#8217;s cry was a gasp. He could not believe that he had heard
+aright; but he felt himself pulled down into his chair and realized
+that though his spiritual world had been turned upside down, as it
+were, this extraordinary dinner must go on. There was only one fact
+for which to rejoice, a trivial one: he had been placed so that he
+could look directly into that palm-decked alcove and upon this
+convict, Number 526.</p>
+
+<p>Convict! Impossible. The fine head was not debased by the
+close-cropped hair, and held itself erect as one upon which no shadow
+of guilt or disgrace had ever rested. The face was noble, despite its
+lines and the prison pallor; and though hard labor had bowed the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>once
+stalwart shoulders, they neither slouched nor shrunk together as did
+those of the other poor men in that group.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Adrian! Remember where you are.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Even the bouillon choked him and the fish was as ashes in his mouth.
+Courses came on and were removed, and he tasted each mechanically,
+prodded to this duty by his mother&#8217;s active elbow. Her tact and
+volubility covered his silence, though there was nobody at that table,
+save herself, who did not mentally set the lad down as an ignorant,
+ill-bred person, oddly unlike the others of his family. Handsome? Oh!
+yes. His appearance was quite correct and even noticeable, but if a
+man were too stupid to open his mouth, save to put food into it, his
+place at a social function were better filled by a plainer and more
+agreeable person.</p>
+
+<p>But all things end, as even that intolerable dinner finally did, and
+Adrian was free to rise and in some quieter place try to rearrange his
+disordered ideas. But he noticed that Kate <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>signaled her mother to
+lead the guests from the room while she, herself, remained to exchange
+a few words with her chief musician. Adrian, also, lingered,
+unreproved, with an intensity of interest which fully redeemed his
+face from that dulness which his sister had previously assigned to it.
+She even smiled upon him, reassuringly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll get used to society after a bit, brother. You&#8217;ve avoided it so
+much and lived so among those artists that you&#8217;re somewhat awkward
+yet. But you&#8217;ll do in time, you&#8217;ll do very well. I mean to make it a
+point that you shall attend all my little functions.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But Adrian resolved that he would never grace, or disgrace, another in
+this place, though he answered nothing. Then the lady turned to Number
+526, and the boy&#8217;s eyes fixed themselves upon that worn face, seeking
+resemblances, trying to comprehend that this unhappy fellow was the
+father of his sunny Margot.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p><p>Kate was speaking now with an accent intended to be kind, even
+commendatory, but her brother&#8217;s ear detected, also, its tone of
+condescension. Did the convict notice it, as well? If so, his face
+showed no sign.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You did well, my man, very well. I think that there might be a bit
+more time allowed for practice, and will speak to the warden about it.
+But you, personally, have a remarkable gift. I hope you will profit by
+it to your soul&#8217;s good. I shall want you and your men again for a time
+this evening. I have the warden&#8217;s consent in the matter. A few arias
+and dreamy waltzes, perhaps that sonata which you and 1001 played the
+other day at my reception. Just your violin and the piano. You will
+undertake it? The instruments shall be screened, of course.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian was leaning forward, his hands clenched, his lips parted. His
+gaze became more and more intense. Suddenly the convict raised his own
+eyes and met the youth&#8217;s squarely, unflinchingly. They were blue eyes,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>pain-dimmed, but courageous. Margot&#8217;s eyes, in very shape and color,
+as hers might be when life had brought her sorrow. For a half-minute
+the pair regarded one another, moved by an influence the elder man
+could not understand; then Adrian&#8217;s hand went out invitingly, while he
+said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Allow me to thank you for your music. I&#8217;ve never heard a violin speak
+as yours does.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The convict hesitated, glanced at the warden&#8217;s lady, and replied:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Probably because no other violin has been to any other man what this
+has been to me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But he did not take the proffered hand and, with a bow that would have
+graced a drawing-room rather than a cell, clasped his instrument
+closely and quietly moved away.</p>
+
+<p>Kate was inured to prison sights, yet even she was touched by this
+little by-play, though she reproved her too warm-hearted brother.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your generosity does you credit, dear, but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>we never shake the hand
+of a prisoner, except when he is leaving. Not always then.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Kate, wait a minute. Tell me all about that man. I thought the
+prisoners were kept under lock and key. I <span style="white-space: nowrap;">thought&mdash;&mdash;</span> Oh! it&#8217;s so
+awful, so incredible.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, Adrian! How foolish. Your artistic temperament, I suppose, and
+you cannot help it. No. They are by no means always kept so close.
+This one is a &#8216;trusty.&#8217; So were all the orchestra. So are all whom you
+see about the house or grounds. This man is the model for the whole
+prison. He is worth more, in keeping order, than a hundred keepers.
+His influence is something wonderful, and his life is a living sermon.
+His repentance is unmistakably sincere, and his conduct will
+materially shorten his term, yet it will be a dark day for the
+institution when he leaves it. I cannot help but like him and trust
+him; and <span style="white-space: nowrap;">yet&mdash;&mdash;</span> Dear, dear! I must not loiter here. I must get back
+to my guests.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Wait, wait. There&#8217;s something I want to ask you. To tell you, too. Do
+you know who that man is?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Kate shivered.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do I not? Oh! Adrian, though I have brought myself to look upon him
+so indulgently now, it was not so at first. Then I hated the sight of
+his face, and could scarcely breathe in the room where he was. He is
+under life-sentence for manslaughter and&mdash;I wonder if I ought to tell
+you! But I must. The situation is so dramatic, so unprecedented. The
+man whom Number 526 tried to kill, and whom he robbed of many
+thousands, was&mdash;our own father!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He was not even surprised and her astonishing statement fell
+pointless, except that he shivered a little, as she had done, and
+withdrew his hand from her arm, where it had arrested her departure.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have heard that already. Mother told me. But I don&#8217;t believe it.
+That man never, never attempted or committed a crime. If he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>were
+guilty could he lift his eyes to mine so steadfastly, I, the son of my
+father? There is some horrible, horrible mistake. I don&#8217;t know what,
+nor how, but there is. And I will find it out, will set it right. I
+must. I shall never know another moment&#8217;s peace until I do. Those eyes
+of his! Why, sister, do you know that it was little Margot, that man&#8217;s
+daughter, who saved me from starvation in the forest? Yes, saved my
+life; and whose influence has turned me from an idle, careless lad
+into&mdash;a man.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>If any of those critical guests could have seen his face at that
+moment they would not have called him stupid; and his excitement
+communicated itself so strongly to his sister, that she passed her
+hands across her brow as if to clear her startled thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Impossible. Fifteen years has Number 526 lived a prison life, and if
+there had been any mistake, it would, it must, have been found out
+long ago. Why, the man had friends, rich ones, who spent great sums to
+prove his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>innocence and failed. The evidence was too strong. If he
+had had his way we two would have long been fatherless.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Kate turned to leave the room but Adrian did not follow her. The place
+had become intolerable to him, yet he blessed the chance which had
+brought him there to see this unhappy fellow-man and to learn this
+amazing story. Now he could not wait to put distance between himself
+and the hateful spot, and to begin the unraveling of what he knew,
+despite all proof, was somebody&#8217;s terrible blunder.</p>
+
+<p>As cautiously as any convict of them all, escaping from his fetters,
+the lad made his way into the street and thence with all speed to the
+station. He had picked up a hat somewhere, but was still in full
+dress, and more than one glance fell with suspicion upon his heated
+countenance and disordered appearance. However, he was too deep in his
+own thoughts to observe this, and as the train rushed cityward he grew
+more calm <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>and better able to formulate a plan of action.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I begin to understand. This yearly visit of the &#8216;master&#8217; has been to
+Number 526. They were close friends, and brothers by marriage. This
+year he has brought Margot with him. Will he, I wonder, will he let
+her see this convict in stripes? No marvel that my question as to her
+father&#8217;s burial place was an unanswerable one. Mother desired me not
+to mention the names of my forest friends before my father, but in
+this I must disobey her. I dare not do otherwise. I must get the
+whole, complete, detailed history of this awful affair, and there is
+nobody who could so well remember it as its victim. But I believe
+there were two victims, and one is suffering still. I only hope that
+father&#8217;s head will not be troubling him. I can&#8217;t think of him without
+these queer &#8216;spells&#8217; yet he has always been capable of transacting
+business, and I must get him to talk, even if it does confuse him. Oh!
+hum! Will we never reach the city! <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>And where is Margot now? If I knew
+I should hurry to see her first; but&mdash;what a welcome her uncle would
+give me if I succeeded in clearing her father&#8217;s name. No wonder he
+disliked me&mdash;rather I am astonished that he let me stay at all,
+knowing my name, even if not my parentage. After that, of course, I
+had to go. Yet he was kind and just to the last, despite his personal
+feeling, and this poor Number 526 looks just as noble.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The house on Madison Avenue was dark when Adrian reached it, but he
+knew that his father&#8217;s private room was at the rear of the building
+and, admitting himself with his latch-key, went directly there.</p>
+
+<p>The banker sat in an attitude familiar to all his family, with his
+hands locked together, his head bent, and his gaze fixed upon vacancy.
+He might have been asleep for all appearances, but when Adrian entered
+and bade &#8220;Good-evening, father,&#8221; he responded promptly enough.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Good-evening, Adrian. Has your mother come home?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, father. I left&mdash;well, I left rather suddenly. In any case, you
+know, she was to stop for the night with Kate. But I came, right after
+dinner, because I want to have a talk with you. Are you equal to it,
+to-night, sir?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The banker flashed a suspicious glance upward, then relapsed into his
+former pose. Memories of previous disagreeable &#8220;talks&#8221; with this, his
+only son, arose, but Adrian anticipated his remark.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nothing wrong with me, this time, father, I hope. I am trying to
+learn the business and to like it. <span style="white-space: nowrap;">I&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Have you any money, Adrian?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A little. What is left of my salary; more than I should have if
+mother hadn&#8217;t fitted my wardrobe out so well. A clerk even in your
+bank doesn&#8217;t earn a princely sum, you remember; not at first.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was a well-known fact, upon the &#8220;street,&#8221; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>that the employees of
+&#8220;Wadislaw&#8217;s&#8221; received almost niggardly payment. Wadislaw, himself had
+the reputation of penuriousness, and that his family had lived in the
+style they had was because Mrs. Wadislaw&#8217;s personal income paid
+expenses.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Put it away. Put it away where nobody can find it. There are more
+robbers than honest men in the country. Once I was robbed, myself. Of
+an enormous sum. I have never recovered from that set-back. We should
+not have gotten on at all but for your mother. Your mother is a very
+good woman, Adrian.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, yes, father. Of course. The very best in the world, I believe.
+She has only one fault, she will make me go into society, and I
+dislike it. Otherwise, she&#8217;s simply perfect.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes. But she watches me too closely, boy. Don&#8217;t let your wife be
+a spy upon you, lad.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I won&#8217;t,&#8221; laughed he. &#8220;But speaking <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>of robberies, I wish you
+would tell me about that great one which happened to you. It was when
+I was too young to know anything about it. I have a particular reason
+for asking. If you are able, that is.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why shouldn&#8217;t I be able? It is never out of my mind, night nor day.
+There was always a mystery in it. Yet I would have trusted him as I
+trusted myself. More than I would dare trust anybody now, even you, my
+son.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The man was thoroughly aroused, at last. Adrian began to question if
+he had done right in saying what would move him so, knowing that all
+excitement was apt to be followed by a &#8220;spell,&#8221; during which he acted
+like a man in a dream, though never sleeping.</p>
+
+<p>But he resumed the conversation, voluntarily, and Adrian listened
+intently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He was a poor boy from a country farm. Your mother and the girls,
+were boarding at his home. I went up for Sundays, for I liked his
+horses. I never felt I could <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>afford to own <span style="white-space: nowrap;">one&mdash;&mdash;</span> Don&#8217;t buy a horse,
+Adrian!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, father. Not yet. I&#8217;m rather more anxious to buy a certain moose I
+know and present it to the city Zoo. King Madoc. You remember I told
+you about the trained animal, who would swim and tow a boat, and could
+be harnessed to draw a sleigh?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Umm. Indeed? Remarkable. Quite remarkable. But I wouldn&#8217;t do it, boy.
+The gift would not be appreciated. Nobody ever does appreciate
+anything. It is a selfish world. A selfish world, and an ungrateful
+one.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not wholly, father, I hope.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We were talking. What about? I&mdash;my memory&mdash;so much care, and the
+difficulty of keeping secrets. It&#8217;s hard to keep everything to one&#8217;s
+self when a man grows old, Adrian.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, father dear. But I&#8217;m at home now to stay. You must trust me more
+and rely upon me. Believe me, I will deserve your confidence. But it
+was the boy from the farm you were telling me of, and the horses.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p><p>In all his life Adrian had never drawn so near his father&#8217;s real self
+as he was drawing then. He rejoiced in this fact as a part of the
+reward of his more filial behavior. He meant wholly what he had just
+promised, but he was still most anxious to hear this old story from
+this participant&#8217;s own lips, while they were together, undisturbed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, yes. Well, I thought I could drive a pair of colts as well as
+any jockey, though I knew no more about driving than any other city
+business man. Of course, they ran away, and I should have been killed,
+but that little <span style="white-space: nowrap;">shaver&mdash;&mdash;</span> Why, Adrian, that little shaver just sprung
+on the back of one, from where he&#8217;d been beside me in the wagon, and
+he held and pulled and wouldn&#8217;t let go till they&#8217;d quieted down, and
+then he was thrown off and nearly trampled to death. I wasn&#8217;t hurt a
+bit, not a single bit. You&#8217;d think I&#8217;d befriend such a brave,
+unselfish little chap as that, wouldn&#8217;t you, lad?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>In the interest of his recital Mr. Wadislaw <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>had risen and paced the
+floor, but he now sat down again, flushed and a bit confused.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What did you do for him, father?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hmm. What? Oh! yes. Found out he wanted to come to New York and put
+him to school. Made a man of him. Gave him a place in the bank.
+Promoted him, promoted him, promoted him. Till he got almost as high
+as I was myself. Trusted him with everything even more than myself for
+he never forgot. It would have been better if he had.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A long silence that seemed intolerable to Adrian&#8217;s impatience.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then, father, what next?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How curious you are! Well, what could be next? except that I went one
+night&mdash;or day&mdash;I don&#8217;t remember&mdash;he <span style="white-space: nowrap;">went&mdash;&mdash;</span> The facts were all
+against him. There was no hope for him from the beginning. If I had
+died, he would have hanged, that boy&mdash;that little handsome shaver who
+saved my life. But I didn&#8217;t die, and he only tried to kill me. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>They
+found him at the safe&mdash;we two, only, knew the lock&mdash;and the iron bar
+in his hand. He protested, of course. They always do. His wife
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">came&mdash;&mdash;</span> Oh! Adrian, I shall never forget her face. She was a
+beautiful woman, with such curious, wonderful hair, and she had a
+little baby in her arms, while she pleaded that I would not prosecute.
+The baby laughed, but what could I do? The law must take its course.
+The money was gone and my life almost. There was no hope for him from
+the beginning, though he never owned his guilt. But I didn&#8217;t die,
+and&mdash;Adrian, why have you asked me all this to-night? I am so tired. I
+often am so tired.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The lad rose and stood beside his father&#8217;s chair, laying his arm
+affectionately around the trembling shoulders, as any daughter might
+have done, as none of this stern father&#8217;s daughters dared to do.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have asked you, father, and pained you because it was right. I had
+to ask. To-day I have seen this &#8216;little shaver,&#8217; a convict in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>his
+prison. I have looked into a face that is still noble and undaunted,
+even after all these years of suffering and shame. I have heard of a
+life that is as helpful behind prison bars as the most devoted
+minister&#8217;s outside them. And I know that he is innocent. He never
+harmed you or meant to. I am as sure of this as that I stand here, and
+it is my life&#8217;s task to undo this wrong that has been done. You would
+be glad to see him righted, would you not, father? After all this
+weary time?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&mdash;I&mdash;don&#8217;t&mdash;I am ill, Adrian, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">I&mdash;&mdash;</span> Take care! The money, the bonds!
+My head, Adrian, my head!&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>A HIDDEN SAFE DEPOSIT</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Upon</span> reaching the New York railway station, Adrian had stopped long
+enough to send his mother an explanatory telegram, so that she might
+not worry over his sudden disappearance. He had also urged her in it,
+to &#8220;make a good visit, since he would be at home to look after his
+father.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>In this new consideration for the feelings of others he was now
+thankful that Mrs. Wadislaw was away. &#8220;She gets so anxious and
+frightened over father&#8217;s &#8216;spells,&#8217; though he always comes out of them
+well,&#8221; he reflected; then did what he remembered to have seen her do
+on similar occasions. He helped his father to the lounge, loosened his
+collar, bathed his head, and administered a few drops of a restorative
+kept near at hand.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p><p>In a few moments the banker sat up again and remarked:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is queer that no doctor can stop these attacks. I never quite lose
+consciousness, or rather I seem to be somebody else. I have an impulse
+to do things I would not do at other times&mdash;yet what these things are
+I do not clearly remember when the attack passes. But I always feel
+better for some days after them. For that reason I do not dread them
+as I would, otherwise. Strange, that a man has to lose his senses in
+order to regain them! A paradox, but a fact.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you have them as often as formerly?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oftener, I think. They are irregular. I may feel one coming on again
+within a few hours or it may not be for weeks. The trouble is that I
+may be stricken some time more severely and fall senseless in some
+unsafe place.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t fear about that, father. I am at home again, you know, and
+shall keep you well in sight. If you would only give up <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>business and
+go away to Europe, or somewhere. Take a long rest. You might recover
+entirely then and enjoy a ripe old age.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t afford it, lad. If those stolen bonds&mdash;but what&#8217;s the use of
+recalling them? Your talk has brought my loss so freshly before me. I
+wish you hadn&#8217;t asked me about it. However, it&#8217;s done, and it&#8217;s late.
+Let&#8217;s get to bed. I must be early at the bank, to-morrow. The builders
+are coming to look things over and estimate on the cost of safe
+deposit vaults in the basement. Ours is one of the oldest buildings in
+the city and every inch of space has increased in value since it was
+put up. The waste room of that basement should bring us in a princely
+income, if the inspector will give the permit to construct the vaults.
+My head must be clear in the morning, if ever, and I must rest now.
+Good-night.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian saw his father to his room and sought his own, resolving to be
+present at the next day&#8217;s interview with the builders, and to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>give
+the banker his own most watchful care. But his thoughts soon returned
+to the startling knowledge he had gained concerning Margot&#8217;s history,
+and when he fell asleep, at last, it was to dream of a prison on an
+island, of his mother in a cell, and other most distressing scenes. So
+that he awoke unrefreshed, and in greater perplexity than ever as to
+how he could find Margot or be of any help to Number 526.</p>
+
+<p>But Mr. Wadislaw seemed brighter than usual, and was almost jovial in
+his discussion of the proposed alterations of his property.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will be a rich man, Adrian, a very rich man, as I figure it.
+Money is the main thing. Get money and&mdash;and&mdash;keep it;&#8221; he added with a
+cautious glance around the breakfast room.</p>
+
+<p>But there was nobody except the old butler to hear this worldly advice
+and he had always been hearing it. Adrian, to whom it was given, heard
+it not at all. He was thinking of his island friends and wondering how
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>he should find them. However, when they reached the bank, he rallied
+his wandering thoughts and gave strict attention to the talk between
+the banker and the builders, trying to impress upon his mind the dry
+facts and figures which meant so much to them.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You say that this wall will have to be torn down. To reach bottom
+rock. Why, sir, that wall has stood&mdash;Adrian, what is that racket in
+the outer office? Stop it. The porter should not <span style="white-space: nowrap;">allow&mdash;&mdash;</span> But, sir,
+that wall is as thick as the safe built into it. I <span style="white-space: nowrap;">mean&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wadislaw passed his hand across his forehead and Adrian, seeing
+this familiar sign of impending trouble, felt that his place was at
+his father&#8217;s side rather than in quelling that slight disturbance in
+the adjoining room. He took his stand behind the banker&#8217;s chair and
+rested his hand upon it.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wadislaw cast a hurried, appealing glance upward, and the son
+smiled and nodded. The contractor moved about the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span>place, tapping the
+walls, the floor, and the great chimney beside the safe; pausing at
+this spot and listening, tapping afresh, listening again, with a
+marked interest growing in his face.</p>
+
+<p>But nobody noticed this, for, suddenly, the door slid open and there
+stood in the aperture a girl with wonderful, flowing hair and a face
+strangely stern and defiant.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Margot!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But it was not at Adrian she looked. At last she was in the presence
+of the man who had ruined her father. And&mdash;he knew her! Aye, knew her,
+though they two had never met before and, as yet, she had spoken no
+accusing word. For he had sunk back in his seat, his face white, his
+eyes staring, his jaw dropped. To him she was an apparition, one risen
+from the dead to confront him with the darkest hour of all his past,
+when a broken-hearted wife had kneeled to him, begging her husband&#8217;s
+life. Yet it was broad daylight and he wide awake.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Are you Malachi Wadislaw?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&mdash;I&mdash;thought you were dead!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, not dead. Alive and come at last to make you right the wrong you
+did my father. To make you open his prison doors and set him free.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you Philip Romeyn&#8217;s wife? Her hair&mdash;his eyes&mdash;I&mdash;I&mdash;am
+confused&mdash;Adrian!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, father. I am here. Margot!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Her glance passed from the father to the son but there was no
+relenting kindness in it. When the young suffer it is profoundly, and
+the inmost depths of Margot&#8217;s nature were stirred by this first sight
+of her father&#8217;s enemy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Philip Romeyn&#8217;s wife lies in the grave, whither your persecution sent
+her. I am her daughter and his, come to make you do a tardy justice.
+To make you lead me to the place where you have hidden the bonds, the
+gold, you said he stole! For if stealing was done it was by your own
+hands, not his.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Margot&mdash;<span class="smcap">Margot</span>! This is my father!&#8221; cried Adrian, aghast.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Yes, Adrian, and my father&mdash;my father&mdash;wears a convict&#8217;s garb this
+day because of yours!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, no! No, no. I tried to save him, but he would not save himself! I
+begged him, almost on my knees I begged him, the little shaver, to
+confess and get the benefit of that. But he would not. There was no
+hope for him from the beginning. None. They found me all but dead. The
+money gone. He by me, the steel rod in his hand with which we used to
+fasten the&mdash;that very safe. <span style="white-space: nowrap;">I&mdash;&mdash;</span> Why, I can see it all as if it were
+to-day, even though they lifted me for dead, and found him standing,
+dazed and speechless. When they questioned him about the money he
+said: &#8216;Ask Malachi Wadislaw. I never touched it.&#8217; That was all. But
+they proved it against him. I was dead&mdash;almost&mdash;and I was beggared.
+Beggared!&#8221; his voice rose to a scream, &#8220;by that brave little shaver
+who had once&mdash;once saved my life. Robbed and murdered&mdash;his benefactor,
+who had made <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>him rich and prosperous. Should he not suffer? Aye,
+forever!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The silence that followed this speech was intense. The builder ceased
+his inquisitive tapping and listened spellbound. Old Joe stood rigidly
+behind the girl whom he had followed. Adrian scarcely breathed.
+Accused and accuser faced one another, motionless.</p>
+
+<p>Then: &#8220;Where&mdash;was&mdash;it?&#8221; demanded Margot. &#8220;Show me&mdash;the place.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Here. Here, in this very sanctum to which nobody had the entrance but
+us two. There&mdash;is the monster safe that was robbed. With such another
+rod of steel&#8221;&mdash;he pointed to a bar resting above the safe&mdash;&#8220;was I
+struck&mdash;here.&#8221; His hand touched for an instant a deep scar on his
+temple and an involuntary shudder passed over the girl&#8217;s frame.</p>
+
+<p>But her face did not change nor the defiance of her eyes grow less.
+She moved a step forward, and, as if to make way for her, the builder,
+also, stepped aside. As he did so <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>his hammer caught upon the little
+ledge of the chimney projection which he had been testing and whose
+hollow sound had aroused his curiosity. The small slab of marble
+slipped and fell, though it had seemingly been securely plastered in
+the wall. It left an aperture of a few inches, and the contractor
+ejaculated:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pshaw! That&#8217;s queer. Must have been loose, I never saw just such a
+hole in such a place. I&#8217;m sorry, sir, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">yet&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span> He turned to address
+the banker but paused, amazed. What had he done?</p>
+
+<p>The effect of that trivial accident upon the owner of the building was
+marvelous. He sprang to his feet, clasped his head with his hands, and
+gazed upon that tiny opening with the fascination of horror. For a
+moment it seemed as if his staring eyes would start from their sockets
+and he gasped in his effort to breathe.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Father! What is it? What ails you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But the distraught man tossed off his son&#8217;s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span>arm like one who needed
+no support, and to whom each second of delay was unendurable.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Look, look! What they told me&mdash;I believed&mdash;look, look!&#8221; then he
+swayed and Adrian caught him.</p>
+
+<p>But Margot&#8217;s anxious love leaped to a swift comprehension of what
+merely amazed the others.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That hole! The bonds&mdash;the bonds are in that hole! That&#8217;s what he
+means. Look, look!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Incredulous, but impelled by her insistence, the builder peered into
+the opening. It was too small to admit his head and his gaze could
+pass no further than its opposite side.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s nothing there, miss, but a hole, as he said.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She tossed him aside, not noticing, and thrust her arm down as far as
+it would reach.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A stick, a string, something&mdash;quick! It is deep.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Nobody moved, till she turned upon the Indian.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;For the master, Joe! a string and a weight. Quick, quick!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The empty-handed son of the forest was the man who filled her need. A
+new, well-leaded fishing line that had caught his fancy, passing down
+the street, came from his pocket. She seized, uncoiled, and dropped it
+down the hole.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! it is so deep. But we must get to the bottom. We must, even if I
+tear that wall down with my own hands. You&#8217;ll help me, Joe, dear Joe,
+won&#8217;t you? For the master?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He moved forward, instantly, but Adrian interposed. He was colorless
+with excitement yet his voice had the ring of hope and expectation, as
+he bent and looked into Malachi Wadislaw&#8217;s eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is she right, father? Do you hear me? Is there anything in that small
+place?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I remember&mdash;I remember. The bonds. The bonds are safe. Always&mdash;always
+keep your money in a <span style="white-space: nowrap;">hidden&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;God forbid!&#8221; groaned the lad. Then to the builder, &#8220;Get your men.
+Tear down that wall. Quick. A man&#8217;s life is at stake, or more than
+life&mdash;his honor.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The contractor hesitated, then remarked:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, it won&#8217;t weaken the building, as I see; and we had decided on
+the work. It would have to come down anyway.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He stepped to the street and summoned a waiting workman. They were
+skilled and labored rapidly, with little scattering of dust or mortar,
+though Margot would not move aside even from that, but gave them room
+for working only, standing with gaze riveted on that deepening shaft.
+A mere shell of single bricks, plastered and painted as the remaining
+wall, had hidden it; and its depth was little below the thick-beamed
+floor.</p>
+
+<p>At last the workman stood up.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think I see the bottom, sir, and there seems to be stuff in it.
+Would you like to feel, young man?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, no! I! It is I&mdash;to me the right&mdash;to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span>find them!&#8221; cried Margot, flinging herself between, and downward on
+the floor.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 372px;">
+<img src="images/i320.jpg" class="illogap jpg" width="372" height="500" alt="SHE STOOPED AND FLUNG THEM OUT" title="" />
+<span class="caption">SHE STOOPED AND FLUNG THEM OUT</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;But, Margot, little girl, don&#8217;t be so sure. It&#8217;s scarcely
+<span style="white-space: nowrap;">probable&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span> began Adrian, compassionately, shrinking from sight of
+her bitter disappointment, should disappointment come. Alas! it would
+be almost as great to him, and whether a glad or sorry one he could
+not yet realize.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;His face! Look at your father&#8217;s face. That tells the story. The bonds
+are there, and &#8217;tis Philip Romeyn&#8217;s daughter shall bring them to the
+light.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, the banker&#8217;s expression confirmed her faith. Its frenzied
+eagerness had given place to a satisfied expectation, and a normal
+color tinged his cheeks. But he still watched intently, saying
+nothing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Catch them, Adrian, catch them! But hold them fast, the horrible,
+accursed things!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>One after one, stooping, the exultant daughter lifted and flung them
+out. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>folded papers seemingly so worthless but of such value; the
+little canvas bags of gold; the precious documents and vouchers,
+hidden from all other men by one unhappy man, in his miserly
+aberration. The price of fifteen years of agony and shame. Now,
+fifteen years to be forgotten, and honor restored.</p>
+
+<p>In that far past Philip Romeyn&#8217;s story had been simple and it had been
+true. He had been unaccountably anxious and had risen in the night and
+gone to the bank. He believed that the safe had not been locked,
+though he had been assured it should be by Mr. Wadislaw, the only
+other person who had a key to it. To his surprise he had found the
+banker in his office, but in dire mishap. He was lying on the floor,
+unconscious, bleeding from a wound upon his temple. The safe was open,
+empty. The steel bar which, at night, was padlocked upon it for extra
+security lay on the floor, beside the senseless man. Mr. Romeyn had
+picked this up and was standing with it in his hand, horrified and
+half-stupefied <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span>by the shocking affair, when the watchman, discovering
+light and noise, had entered and found them. It was his hasty,
+accusing voice which started the cry of robbery and murder; and the
+circumstances had seemed so aggravated, the circumstantial evidence so
+strong, that the judge had imposed the heaviest penalty within his
+power. The hypothesis that Mr. Wadislaw had himself put the contents
+of the safe away, had even perverted them to his own use; and that he
+had injured himself by falling against the sharp corner of the safe&#8217;s
+heavy and open door, had been set aside as too trivial for
+consideration.</p>
+
+<p>The hypothesis had been correct, the circumstantial evidence
+incorrect; yet in the name of justice, the latter had prevailed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Count them! have you counted them, Adrian?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Margot. It is all here. The very sum of which I have so often
+heard. Thank God, that it is found!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;My father! Come, Joe, we&#8217;re going to my father.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And I go with you. In my father&#8217;s name and to begin his lifelong
+reparation.&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE MELODY AND MYSTERY OF LIFE</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Swift</span> the way and joyous now, that same road over which Adrian had
+journeyed on the day before, so grudgingly. Yet not half swift enough
+that through express by which they left the city limits for the little
+town of Sing Sing, or as would have better suited Indian Joe, of
+Ossining. Scene of so many tragedies and broken hearts; to be, to-day,
+a scene of unutterable gladness.</p>
+
+<p>Margot&#8217;s eyes were on the flying landscape, counting the lessening
+landmarks as one counts off the stitches of a tedious seam, and with
+each mile of progress her impatience growing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh! Adrian! shall we never be there! I can hardly breathe. My heart
+beats so&mdash;I cannot wait, I cannot!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p><p>In the seat behind them Joe still carefully held the old-fashioned
+shawl and bonnet, which Angelique had decided her young traveler
+should&mdash;but never would&mdash;wear. Her hair was out of that decorous plait
+which had been commanded, and there had been neither time nor friend
+to substitute new clothes for old. Therefore, it was just as she
+looked in the woodland that Margot looked now when she was first to
+meet her father&#8217;s eyes; and neither she, nor even Adrian, cared one
+whit for the curious glances which scrutinized her unusual,
+comfortable attire.</p>
+
+<p>What were clothes? Money could soon buy those, if they were needed,
+and there would be money abundant, Adrian thought, fingering the
+&#8220;specimens&#8221; which the girl desired old Joseph to produce from that
+wonderful pocket of his, which held so few, yet just the very things
+that were important.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Copper, Margot. I&#8217;m sure of it. I have a friend, a man who deals in
+mining stocks, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span>and I&#8217;ve seen samples at his office which do not look
+as pure to me as this.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;These pieces came from the deep cave under the island. Where I was
+that day during the great storm, the day you came to us. I don&#8217;t see
+why there shouldn&#8217;t be plenty of the metal there, for we&#8217;re in nearly
+the same latitude as the copper regions of the great lakes. I hope we
+may find it in large enough quantities to pay for getting it out.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Adrian was surprised and not wholly pleased by what seemed a mercenary
+taint upon her fine character, but was ashamed of his momentary
+misjudgment when she added:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Because, you see, we&#8217;ve suffered so much for money&#8217;s sake that we
+want to use it ourselves to make other people happy. I know what I
+will do with it, if I ever have much, or even little.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What is that?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will use it to defend the wrongfully imprisoned. To help the poor
+men when they come out, even if they have been wicked once. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span>To
+comfort the families of those who suffer disgrace and poverty. To
+forward justice&mdash;justice. Oh! Adrian, how far now?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Fifteen minutes, now. Only fifteen minutes!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They will never pass! They are longer than the fifteen years of my
+ignorance, when I didn&#8217;t know I had a father. My father. My father.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Over and over, she said the words softly, caressingly, as if she could
+never have enough of all they meant to her; and the listening lad
+asked once, a trifle warningly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you not at all afraid, Margot, that this unknown father will be
+different from your anticipations? Remember, though so close of kin,
+you are still strangers.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, Adrian! My mother loved him and my uncle. I love him, too,
+unknowing; but I tell you now, this minute, if I found him all that
+was bad and repulsive, I should still love him and all the more. So
+love him that he would grow good again and forget all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span>the evil he
+must have seen in that evil place. For he is my father, my father.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Have no fear, I only meant to try you. He is all that you dream and
+more. He has the noblest face I ever looked on; yes, not even
+excepting your uncle&#8217;s.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What? you&mdash;have seen him?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. Yesterday;&#8221; at which she sat in silent wonder till he said: &#8220;Now
+come. We&#8217;re there!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>When they stepped out at the final station Adrian called for the
+swiftest horses waiting possible fares, and burst in upon his sister&#8217;s
+presence with the demand, almost breathlessly spoken:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Number 526, at once, Kate. This is <span style="white-space: nowrap;">Margot&mdash;&mdash;</span> Ah! mother! Margot! The
+money&#8217;s found&mdash;Number 526&mdash;quick!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The excitement was all his by then. The girl to whom this moment was
+so much more eventful stood pale and quiet, with a luminous joy in her
+blue eyes that was more pathetic than tears.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Adrian, are you crazy? Upon my word, I almost believe you are!
+Running away as you did last night and coming back again to-day, in
+this wild fashion. What do you mean? Who is this&mdash;this young person?
+And what in the world do you, can you, possibly, want of Number 526?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He paid no attention to her many questions, nor even to his mother who
+clutched his arm in extreme agitation. He had caught the tones of a
+violin played softly, tenderly, and oh! so sadly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, that&#8217;s Number 526, since you wish to see him, though it&#8217;s quite
+against the rules and&mdash;he&#8217;s practicing with his <span style="white-space: nowrap;">men&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Come, Margot. Come.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The player was in the little alcove behind the screen and palms, and
+did not even look up as the two entered his presence, for his own soul
+had floated far away from that dread place, on the strains of that
+music which no prison bars could confine.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Father!&#8221;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 402px;">
+<img src="images/i331.jpg" width="402" class="illogap" height="500" alt="&#8220;MY FATHER! I HAVE COME&#8221;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&#8220;MY FATHER! I HAVE COME&#8221;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p><p>The music ceased, but only for an instant. Once the player had heard a
+voice like that&mdash;clear, sweet, exquisitely modulated. The voice of the
+wife he had loved, silent in death these many years. But the tone had
+been sufficient to stir his soul to even deeper harmonies: and he
+stood there forgetful of his shaven head, his prison stripes, once
+more a man among men.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Father! My father! I have come! Margot, baby Margot! Come to set you
+free!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Her arms were about his neck, her wet face pressed close to his, her
+tender kisses poured upon his lips, his dazed, unseeing eyes, his
+trembling shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Then he put out his hand and held her from him, that he might the
+better see her fairness, hear her marvelous story&mdash;told in few words,
+and comprehend what was the merciful, the Heaven-sent bliss that had
+come to him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Cecily! Margot! My daughter with her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span>mother&#8217;s face! Free! Free! Oh!
+God, support me!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The indomitable courage which suffering had had no power to weaken
+failed in this supreme moment; and as, in his hours of darkness, he
+had clung to his music for sustenance so he turned to it now. He
+pressed his violin to his shoulder, leaned his cheek upon it, and from
+its quivering strings drew out in melody the story of his fifteen
+years. All the bitterness, the sadness, the sweetness; and that
+exalted faith which had made the mystery of his life, and his shame,
+almost divine.</p>
+
+<p>Blinded by their own tears, one by one, the others left them, and when
+the last strain ended in a burst of joyous victory, there were but two
+to hear it&mdash;parent and child.</p>
+
+<hr class="medium" />
+
+<p>Adrian watched the train that bore them homeward roll away, with a
+heart both heavy and glad. In fancy he could see them reach that
+journey&#8217;s end; with brother clasping the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span>hand of brother, the silent,
+wonderful forest receiving them into its restful solitude. He could
+see that great room which had waited for its occupant so many years,
+and which was now all aglow from its flame-filled fireplace, and
+redolent with wild flowers. He could see the wide couch drawn up
+before the hearth and a toil-worn man, who had not rested before in
+fifteen years, lying there with grateful, adoring eyes fixed upon that
+pictured Face of The Man of Sorrows.</p>
+
+<p>There was a girl in the room, moving everywhere in needless, tender
+care that nothing should be wanting. As if anything ever could be
+wanting where Margot was! The innocent, great-hearted child of nature,
+whose love no obstacle could overcome, and who hesitated at no danger
+for love&#8217;s sweet sake.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<div class="centerbox3 bbox2"><p class="adtitle"><i><b>Best Books</b></i></p>
+
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+
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+
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+also improving his mind and developing his character. Nowhere can
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+
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+
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+
+<hr class="tiny" />
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+
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+<table border="0" width="100%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="4" summary="ads7">
+<tr><td align="left"><i>923 ARCH STREET</i></td><td align="right"><i>PHILADELPHIA</i></td></tr></table></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<h2><i>STORIES FOR GIRLS</i></h2>
+
+<hr class="tiny" />
+
+<div class="centered">
+<table border="0" width="100%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="4" summary="ads6">
+<tr><td colspan="2" align="center"><i>Earning Her Way</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>By Mrs. Clarke Johnson</i></td><td align="right"><i>Illustrated by Ida Waugh</i></td></tr></table></div>
+
+<p>A charming story of an ambitious girl who overcomes in a most original
+manner, many obstacles that stand in the way of securing a college
+course. While many of her experiences are of a practical nature and
+show a brave, self-reliant spirit, some of her escapades and
+adventures are most exciting, yet surrounding the whole there is an
+atmosphere of refinement and inspiration that is most helpful and
+pleasing.</p>
+
+<div class="centered">
+<table border="0" width="100%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="4" summary="ads5">
+<tr><td colspan="2" align="center"><i>Her College Days</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>By Mrs. Clarke Johnson</i></td><td align="right"><i>Illustrated by Ida Waugh</i></td></tr></table></div>
+
+<p>This is a most interesting and healthful tale of a girl&#8217;s life in a
+New England college. The trustful and unbounded love of the heroine
+for her mother and the mutual and self-sacrificing devotion of the
+mother to the daughter are so beautifully interwoven with the varied
+occurrences and exciting incidents of college life as to leave a most
+wholesome impression upon the mind and heart of the reader.</p>
+
+<div class="centered">
+<table border="0" width="100%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="4" summary="ads4">
+<tr><td colspan="2" align="center"><i>Two Wyoming Girls</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>By Mrs. Carrie L. Marshal</i></td><td align="right"><i>Illustrated by Ida Waugh</i></td></tr></table></div>
+
+<p>Two girls, thrown upon their own resources, are obliged to &#8220;prove up&#8221;
+their homestead claim. This would be no very serious matter were it
+not for the persecution of an unscrupulous neighbor, who wishes to
+appropriate the property to his own use. The girls endure many
+privations, have a number of thrilling adventures, but finally secure
+their claim and are generally well rewarded for their courage and
+perseverance.</p>
+
+<div class="centered">
+<table border="0" width="100%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="4" summary="ad3">
+<tr><td colspan="2" align="center"><i>The Girl Ranchers</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>By Mrs. Carrie L. Marshal</i></td><td align="right"><i>Illustrated by Ida Waugh</i></td></tr></table></div>
+
+<p>A story of life on a sheep ranch in Montana. The dangers and
+difficulties incident to such a life are vividly pictured, and the
+interest in the story is enhanced by the fact that the ranch is
+managed almost entirely by two young girls. By their energy and pluck,
+coupled with courage, kindness, and unselfishness they succeed in
+disarming the animosity of the neighboring cattle ranchers, and their
+enterprise eventually results successfully.</p>
+
+<div class="centered">
+<table border="0" width="100%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="4" summary="ad2">
+<tr><td colspan="2" align="center"><i>A Maid at King Alfred&#8217;s Court</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>By Lucy Foster Madison</i></td><td align="right"><i>Illustrated by Ida Waugh</i></td></tr></table></div>
+
+<p>This is a strong and well told tale of the 9th century. It is a
+faithful portrayal of the times, and is replete with historical
+information. The trying experiences through which the little heroine
+passes, until she finally becomes one of the great Alfred&#8217;s family,
+are most entertainingly set forth. Nothing short of a careful study of
+the history of the period will give so clear a knowledge of this
+little known age as the reading of this book.</p>
+
+<div class="centered">
+<table border="0" width="100%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="4" summary="ad1">
+<tr><td colspan="2" align="center"><i>A Maid of the First Century</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>By Lucy Foster Madison</i></td><td align="right"><i>Illustrated by Ida Waugh</i></td></tr></table></div>
+
+<p>A little maid of Palestine goes in search of her father, who for
+political reasons, has been taken as a slave to Rome. She is
+shipwrecked in the Mediterranean, but is rescued by a passing vessel
+bound for Britain. Eventually an opportunity is afforded her for going
+to Rome, where, after many trying and exciting experiences, she and
+her father are united and his liberty is restored to him.</p></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="large" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Transcriber&#8217;s Note:</span></h3>
+
+<p>Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters&#8217; errors;
+otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author&#8217;s
+words and intent.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 31655-h.txt or 31655-h.zip *******</p>
+<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br />
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/1/6/5/31655">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/6/5/31655</a></p>
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@@ -0,0 +1,6871 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Daughter of the Forest, by Evelyn Raymond,
+Illustrated by Ida Waugh
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: A Daughter of the Forest
+
+
+Author: Evelyn Raymond
+
+
+
+Release Date: March 15, 2010  [eBook #31655]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST***
+
+
+E-text prepared by D Alexander and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images
+generously made available by Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 31655-h.htm or 31655-h.zip:
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/31655/31655-h/31655-h.htm)
+      or
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/31655/31655-h.zip)
+
+
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive. See
+      http://www.archive.org/details/daughterofforest00raymrich
+
+
+
+
+
+A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST
+
+by
+
+EVELYN RAYMOND
+
+Author of "A Yankee Girl" etc.
+
+Illustrated by Ida Waugh
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Penn Publishing Company
+Philadelphia MCMII
+
+Copyright 1902 by The Penn Publishing Company
+
+Published August 15, 1902
+
+A Daughter of the Forest
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE GIRL KNELT, INDIAN FASHION]
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+ CHAPTER                                                    PAGE
+
+     I THE STORM                                              5
+
+    II SPIRIT OR MORTAL                                      15
+
+   III AN ESTRAY FROM CIVILIZATION                           27
+
+    IV WHAT WAS IN THE NAME                                  40
+
+     V IN ALADDIN LAND                                       53
+
+    VI A ONE-SIDED STORY                                     67
+
+   VII A WOODLAND MENAGERIE                                  78
+
+  VIII KING MADOC                                            84
+
+    IX PERPLEXITIES                                          96
+
+     X DEPARTURE                                            109
+
+    XI A DISCLOSURE                                         120
+
+   XII CARRYING                                             134
+
+  XIII A DEAD WATER TRAGEDY                                 146
+
+   XIV SHOOTING THE RAPIDS                                  157
+
+    XV SCIENCE AND SUPERSTITION                             172
+
+   XVI DIVERGING ROADS                                      188
+
+  XVII IN THE HOUR OF DARKNESS                              201
+
+ XVIII THE LETTER                                           212
+
+   XIX A QUESTION OF APPAREL                                226
+
+    XX COMING AND GOING                                     241
+
+   XXI IN THE GREAT RAILWAY STATION                         259
+
+  XXII NUMBER 526                                           272
+
+ XXIII FATHER AND SON                                       283
+
+  XXIV  A HIDDEN SAFE DEPOSIT                               302
+
+   XXV THE MELODY AND MYSTERY OF LIFE                       319
+
+
+
+
+A Daughter of the Forest
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE STORM
+
+
+"Margot! Margot!"
+
+Mother Angelique's anxious call rang out over the water, once, twice,
+many times. But, though she shaded her brows with her hands and
+strained her keen ears to listen, there was no one visible and no
+response came back to her. So she climbed the hill again and,
+reentering the cabin, began to stir with almost vicious energy the
+contents of a pot swinging in the wide fireplace. As she toiled she
+muttered and wagged her gray head with sage misgivings.
+
+"For my soul! There is the ver' bad hoorican' a-comin', and the child
+so heedless. But the signs, the omens! This same day I did fall
+asleep at the knitting and waked a-smother. True, 'twas Meroude, the
+cat, crouched on my breast; yet what sent her save for a warning?"
+
+Though even in her scolding the woman smiled, recalling how Margot had
+jeered at her superstition; and that when she had dropped her bit of
+looking-glass the girl had merrily congratulated her on the fact;
+since by so doing she had secured "two mirrors in which to behold such
+loveliness!"
+
+"No, no, not so. Death lurks in a broken glass; or, at the best, must
+follow seven full years of bad luck and sorrow."
+
+On which had come the instant reproof:
+
+"Silly Angelique! When there is no such thing as luck but all is of
+the will of God."
+
+The old nurse had frowned. The maid was too wise for her years. She
+talked too much with the master. It was not good for womenkind to
+listen to grave speech or plague their heads with graver books. Books,
+indeed, were for priests and doctors; and, maybe, now and then, for
+men who could not live without them, like Master Hugh. She, Angelique,
+had never read a book in all her life. She never meant to do so. She
+had not even learned a single letter printed in their foolish pages.
+Not she. Yet was not she a most excellent cook and seamstress? Was
+there any cabin in all that northland as tidy as that she ruled?
+Would matters have been the better had she bothered her poor brain
+with books? She knew her duty and she did it. What more could mortal?
+
+This argument had been early in the day. A day on which the master had
+gone away to the mainland and the house-mistress had improved by
+giving the house an extra cleaning. To escape the soapsuds and the
+loneliness, Margot had, also, gone, alone and unquestioned; taking
+with her a luncheon of brown bread and cold fowl, her book and
+microscope. Angelique had watched the little canoe push off from
+shore, without regret, since now she could work unhindered at
+clearing the room of the "rubbishy specimen" which the others had
+brought in to mess the place.
+
+Now, at supper time, perfect order reigned, and perfect quiet, as
+well; save for the purring of Meroude upon the hearth and the
+simmering of the kettle. Angelique wiped her face with her apron.
+
+"The great heat! and May but young yet. It means trouble. I wish----"
+
+Suddenly, the cat waked from her sleep and with a sharp meouw leaped
+to her mistress' shoulder; who screamed, dropped the ladle, splashed
+the stew, and boxed the animal's ears--all within a few seconds. Her
+nerves were already tingling from the electricity in the air, and her
+anxiety returned with such force that, again swinging the crane around
+away from the fire, she hurried to the beach.
+
+To one so weatherwise the unusual heat, the leaden sky, and the
+intense hush were ominous. There was not a breath of wind stirring,
+apparently, yet the surface of the lake was already dotted by tiny
+white-caps, racing and chasing shoreward, like live creatures at play.
+Not many times, even in her long life in that solitude, had Angelique
+Ricord seen just that curious coloring of cloud and water, and she
+recalled these with a shudder. The child she loved was strong and
+skilful, but what would that avail? Her thin face darkened, its
+features sharpened, and making a trumpet of her hands, she put all her
+force into a long, terrified halloo.
+
+"Ah-ho-a-ah! Margot--Mar-g-o-t--MARGOT!"
+
+Something clutched her shoulder and with another frightened scream the
+woman turned to confront her master.
+
+"Is the child away?"
+
+"Yes, yes. I know not where."
+
+"Since when?"
+
+"It seems but an hour, maybe two, three, and she was here, laughing,
+singing, all as ever. Though it was before the midday, and she went
+in her canoe, still singing."
+
+"Which way?"
+
+She pointed due east, but now into a gloom that was impenetrable. On
+the instant, the lapping wavelets became breakers, the wind rose to a
+deafening shriek, throwing Angelique to the ground and causing even
+the strong man to reel before it. As soon as he could right himself he
+lifted her in his arms and staggered up the slope. Rather, he was
+almost blown up it and through the open door into the cabin, about
+which its furnishings were flying wildly. Here the woman recovered
+herself and lent her aid in closing the door against the tempest, a
+task that, for a time, seemed impossible. Her next thought was for her
+dinner-pot, now swaying in the fireplace, up which the draught was
+roaring furiously. Once the precious stew was in a sheltered corner,
+her courage failed again and she sank down beside it, moaning and
+wringing her hands.
+
+"It is the end of the world!"
+
+"Angelique!"
+
+Her wails ceased. That was a tone of voice she had never disobeyed in
+all her fifteen years of service.
+
+"Yes, Master Hugh."
+
+"Spread some blankets. Brew some herb tea. Get out a change of dry
+clothing. Make everything ready against I bring Margot in."
+
+She watched him hurrying about securing all the windows, piling wood
+on the coals, straightening the disordered furniture, fastening a
+bundle of kindlings to his own shoulders, putting matches in the
+pocket of his closely buttoned coat, and caught something of his
+spirit. After all, it was a relief to be doing something, even though
+the roar of the tempest and the incessant flashes of lightning turned
+her sick with fear. But it was all too short a task; and when, at
+last, her master climbed outward through a sheltered rear window,
+closing it behind him, her temporary courage sank again and finally.
+
+"The broken glass! the broken glass! Yet who would dream it is my
+darling's bright young life must pay for that and not mine, the old
+and careworn? Ouch! the blast! That bolt struck--and near! Ah! me! Ah!
+me!"
+
+Meroude rubbed pleadingly against her arm and, glad of any living
+companionship, she put out her hand to touch him; but drew it back in
+dread, for his surcharged fur sparkled and set her flesh a-tingle,
+while the whole room grew luminous with an uncanny radiance. Feeling
+that her own last hour had come, poor Angelique crouched still lower
+in her corner and began to say her prayers with so much earnestness
+that she became almost oblivious to the tornado without.
+
+Meanwhile, by stooping and clinging to whatever support offered, Hugh
+Dutton made his slow way beachward. But the bushes uprooted in his
+clasp and the bowlders slipped by him on this new torrent rushing to
+the lake. Then he flung himself face downward and cautiously crawled
+toward the point of rocks whereon he meant to make his beacon fire.
+
+"She will see it and steer by it," he reflected; for he would not
+acknowledge how hopeless would be any human steering under such a
+stress.
+
+Alas! the beacon would not light. The wind had turned icy cold and the
+rain changed to hail which hurled itself upon the tiny blaze and
+stifled its first breath. A sort of desperate patience fell on the man
+and he began again, with utmost care, to build and shelter his little
+stock of fire-wood. Match after match he struck and with unvarying
+failure, till all were gone; and realizing at last how chilled and
+rigid he was growing he struggled to his feet and set them into
+motion.
+
+Then there came a momentary lull in the storm and he shouted aloud, as
+Angelique had done:
+
+"Margot! Little Margot! MARGOT!"
+
+Another gust swept over lake and island. He could hear the great
+trees falling in the forest, the bang, bang, bang, of the deafening
+thunder, as, blinded by lightning and overcome by exhaustion, he sank
+down behind the pile of rocks and knew no more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+SPIRIT OR MORTAL
+
+
+The end of that great storm was almost as sudden as its beginning.
+Aroused by the silence that succeeded the uproar, Angelique stood up
+and rubbed her limbs, stiff with long kneeling. The fire had gone out.
+Meroude was asleep on the blankets spread for Margot, who had not
+returned, nor the master. As for that matter the house-mistress had
+not expected that they ever would.
+
+"There is nothin' left. I am alone. It was the glass. Ah! that the
+palsy had but seized my unlucky hand before I took it from its shelf!
+How still it is. How clear, too, is my darling's laugh--it rings
+through the room--it is a ghost. It will haunt me al-ways, al-ways."
+
+Unable longer to bear the indoor silence, which her fancy filled with
+familiar sounds, she unbarred the heavy door and stepped out.
+
+"Ah! is it possible! Can the sun be settin' that way? as if there had
+been nothin' happenin'."
+
+Wrecks strewed the open ground about the cabin, poultry coops were
+washed away, the cow shed was a heap of ruins, into which the
+trembling observer dared not peer. That Snowfoot should be dead was a
+calamity but second only to the loss of master and nursling.
+
+"Ah! my beast, my beast. The best in all this northern Maine. That the
+master bought and brought in the big canoe for an Easter gift to his
+so faithful Angelique. And yet the sun sets as red and calm as if all
+was the same as ever."
+
+It was, indeed, a scene of grandeur. The storm, in passing northward,
+had left scattered banks of clouds, now colored most brilliantly by
+the setting sun and widely reflected on the once more placid lake. But
+neither the beauty, nor the sweet, rain-washed air, appealed to the
+distracted islander who faced the west and shook her hand in impotent
+rage toward it.
+
+"Shine, will you? With the harm all done and nothin' left but me, old
+Angelique! Pouf! I turn my back on you!"
+
+Then she ran shoreward with all speed, dreading what she might find
+yet eager to know the worst, if there it might be learned. With her
+apron over her head she saw only what lay straight before her and so
+passed the point of rocks without observing her master lying behind
+it. But a few steps further she paused, arrested by a sight which
+turned her numb with superstitious terror. What was that coming over
+the water? A ghost! a spirit!
+
+Did spirits paddle canoes and sing as this one was singing?
+
+     "The boatman's song is borne along far over the water so blue,
+     And loud and clear, the voice we hear of the boatman so honest
+                         and true;
+           He's rowing, rowing, rowing along,
+             He's rowing, rowing, rowing along--
+               He's rowing and singing his song."
+
+Ghosts should sing hymns, not jolly little ballads like this, in which
+one could catch the very rhythm and dip of oar or paddle. Still, it
+was as well to wait and see if this were flesh or apparition before
+pronouncing judgment.
+
+It was certainly a canoe, snowy white and most familiar--so familiar
+that the watcher began to lose her first terror. A girl knelt in it,
+Indian fashion, gracefully and evenly dipping her paddle to the melody
+of her lips. Her bare head was thrown back and her fair hair floated
+loose. Her face was lighted by the western glow, on which she fixed
+her eyes with such intentness that she did not perceive the woman who
+awaited her with now such mixed emotions.
+
+But Tom saw. Tom, the eagle, perched in the bow, keen of vision and of
+prejudice. Between him and old Angelique was a grudge of long
+standing. Whenever they met, even after a brief separation, he
+expressed his feelings by his hoarsest screech. He did so now and, by
+so doing, recalled Margot from sky-gazing and his enemy from doubt.
+
+"Ah! Angelique! Watching for me? How kind of you. Hush, Tom. Let her
+alone, good Angelique, poor Angelique!"
+
+The eagle flapped his wings with a melancholy disdain and plunged his
+beak in his breast. The old woman on the beach was not worth minding,
+after all, by a monarch of the sky--as he would be but for his broken
+wing--but the girl was worth everything, even his obedience.
+
+She laughed at his sulkiness, plying her paddle the faster, and soon
+reached the pebbly beach, where she sprang out, and drawing her canoe
+out of the water, swept her old nurse a curtsey.
+
+"Home again, mother, and hungry for my supper."
+
+"Supper, indeed! Breakin' my heart with your run-about ways! and the
+hoorican', with ever'thin' ruined, ever'thin'! The master---- Where's
+he, I know not. The great pine broken like a match; the coops, the
+cow-house, and Snowfoot---- Ah, me! Yet the little one talks of
+supper!"
+
+Margot looked about her in astonishment, scarcely noticing the other's
+words. The devastation of her beloved home was evident, even down on
+the open beach, and she dared not think what it might be further
+inland.
+
+"Why, it must have been a cyclone! We were reading about them only
+yesterday and Uncle Hugh--did you say that you knew--where is he?"
+
+Angelique shook her head.
+
+"Can I tell anythin', me? Into the storm he went and out of it he will
+come alive, as you have. If the good Lord wills," she added
+reverently.
+
+The girl sprang to the woman's side, and caught her arm impatiently.
+
+"Tell me, quick. Where is he? where did you last see him?"
+
+"Goin' into the hoorican', with wood upon his shoulder. To make a
+beacon for you. So I guess. But you--tell how you come alive out of
+all that?" Sweeping her arm over the outlook.
+
+Margot did not stop to answer but darted toward the point of rocks
+where, if anywhere, she knew her guardian would have tried his signal
+fire. In a moment she found him.
+
+"Angelique! Angelique! He's here. Quick--quick---- He's---- Oh! is he
+dead, is he dead?"
+
+There was both French and Indian blood in mother Ricord's veins, a
+passionate loyalty in her heart, and the suppleness of youth still in
+her spare frame. With a dash she was at the girl's side and had thrust
+her away, to kneel herself and lift her master's head from its hard
+pillow of rock.
+
+With swift nervous motions she unfastened his coat and bent her ear to
+his breast.
+
+"'Tis only a faint, maybe shock. In all the world was only Margot, and
+Margot was lost. Ugh! the hail. See, it is still here--look! water,
+and--yes, the tea! It was for you---- Ah!"
+
+Her words ended with a sigh of satisfaction as a slight motion stirred
+the features into which she peered so earnestly, and she raised her
+master's head a bit higher. Then his eyes slowly opened and the dazed
+look gradually gave place to a normal expression.
+
+"Why, Margot! Angelique? What's happened?"
+
+"Oh! Uncle Hugh! are you hurt? are you ill? I found you here behind
+the rocks and Angelique says--but I wasn't hurt at all. I wasn't out
+in any storm, didn't know there had been one, that is, worth minding,
+till I came home----"
+
+"Like a ghost out of the lake. She was not even dead, not she. And she
+was singin' fit to burst her throat while you were--well, maybe, not
+dead, yourself."
+
+At this juncture, Tom, the inquisitive, thrust his white head forward
+into the midst of the group and, in her relief from her first fear,
+Margot laughed aloud.
+
+"Don't, Tom! You're one of the family, of course, and since none of
+the rest of us will die to please that broken mirror, you may have to!
+Especially, if there's a new brood out----"
+
+But here Angelique threw up her free hand with such a gesture of
+despair that Margot said no more, and her face sobered again,
+remembering that, even though they were all still alive, there might
+be suffering untold among her humbler woodland friends. Then, as Mr.
+Dutton rose, almost unaided, a fresh regret came:
+
+"That there should be a cyclone, right here at home, and I not to see
+it! See! Look, uncle, look! You can trace its very path, just as we
+read. Away to the south there is no sign of it, nor on the northeast.
+It must have swept up to us out of the southeast and taken our island
+in its track. Oh! I wouldn't have missed it for anything."
+
+The man rested his hand upon her shoulder and turned her gently
+homeward. His weakness had left him as it had come upon him, with a
+suddenness like that of the recent tempest. It was not the first
+seizure of the kind, which he had had, though neither of these others
+knew it; and the fact added a deeper gravity to his always thoughtful
+manner.
+
+"I am most thankful that you were not here; but where could you have
+been to escape it?"
+
+"All day in the long cave. To the very end of it I believe, and see! I
+found these. They are like the specimens you brought the other day.
+They must be some rich metal."
+
+"In the long cave, you? Alone? All day? Margot, Margot, is not the
+glass enough? but you must tempt worse luck by goin' there!" cried
+Angelique, who had preceded the others on the path, but now faced
+about, trembling indignantly. What foolish creature was this who
+would pass a whole day in that haunted spot, in spite of the dreadful
+tales that had been told of it. "Pouf! But I wear out my poor brain,
+everlastin' to study the charms will save you from evil, me. And
+yet----"
+
+"You would do well to use some of your charms on Tom, yonder. He's
+found an overturned coop and looks too happy to be out of mischief."
+
+The woman wheeled again and was off up the slope like a flash, where
+presently the king of birds was treated to the indignity of a sound
+boxing, which he resented with squawks and screeches, but not with
+talons, since under each foot he held the plump body of a fat chicken.
+
+"Tom thinks a bird in the hand is worth a score of cuffs! and
+Angelique's so determined to have somebody die--I hope it won't be
+Tom. A pity, though, that harm should have happened to her own pets.
+Hark! What is that?"
+
+"Some poor woodland creature in distress. The storm----"
+
+"That's no sound belonging to the forest. But it is--distress!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+AN ESTRAY FROM CIVILIZATION
+
+
+They paused by the cabin door, left open by Angelique, and listened
+intently. She, too, had caught the alien sound, the faint, appealing
+halloo of a human voice--the rarest of all cries in that wilderness.
+Even the eagle's screeches could not drown it, but she had had enough
+of anxieties for one day. Let other people look out for themselves;
+her precious ones should not stir afield again, no, not for anything.
+Let the evil bird devour the dead chickens, if he must, her place was
+in the cabin, and she rushed back down the slope, fairly forcing the
+others inward from the threshold where they hesitated.
+
+"'Tis a loon. You should know that, I think, and that they're always
+cryin' fit to scare the dead. Come. The supper's waited this long
+time."
+
+With a smile that disarmed offense Margot caught the woman's shoulder
+and lightly swung her aside out of the way.
+
+"Eat then, hungry one! I, too, am hungry, but---- Hark!"
+
+The cry came again, prolonged, entreating, not to be confounded with
+that of any forest wilding.
+
+"It's from the north end of our own island!"
+
+The master's ear was not less keen than the girl's, and both had the
+acuteness of an Indian's, but his judgment was better.
+
+"From the mainland, across the narrows."
+
+Neither delayed, as a mutual impulse sent them toward the shore, but
+again Angelique interposed.
+
+"Thoughtless child, have you no sense? With the master just out of a
+faint that was nigh death itself! With nothin' in his poor stomach
+since the mornin' and your own as empty. Wait. Eat. Then chase loons,
+if you will."
+
+Mr. Dutton laughed, though he also frowned and cast a swift, anxious
+glance toward Margot. But she was intent upon nothing save answering
+that far-off cry.
+
+"Which canoe, uncle?"
+
+"Mine."
+
+The devoted servant made a last protest, and caught the girl's arm as
+it pushed the light craft downward into the water.
+
+"My child, he is not fit. Believe me. Best leave others to their fate
+than he should over-tax himself again, so soon."
+
+Margot was astonished. In all her life she had never before associated
+thought of physical weakness with her stalwart guardian, and a sharp
+fear of some unknown trouble shot through her heart.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+The master had reached them and now laid his own hand upon Angelique's
+detaining one.
+
+"There, woman, that's enough. The storm has shaken your nerves. If
+you're afraid to stay alone, Margot shall stop with you. But let's
+have no more nonsense."
+
+Mother Ricord stepped back, away. She had done her best. Let come what
+might, her conscience was clear.
+
+A few seconds later the canoe pushed off over the now darkening water
+and its inmates made all speed toward that point from which the cry
+had been heard, but was heard no more. However, the steersman followed
+a perfectly direct course and, if he were still weak from his seizure,
+his movement showed no signs of it, so that Margot's fear for him was
+lost in the interest of their present adventure. She rhymed her own
+stroke to her uncle's and when he rested her paddle instantly stopped.
+
+"Halloo! Hal-l-oo!" he shouted, but as no answer came, said:
+"Now--both together!"
+
+The girl's shriller treble may have had further carrying power than
+the man's voice, for there was promptly returned to them an echoing
+halloo, coming apparently from a great distance. But it was repeated
+at close intervals and each time with more distinctness.
+
+"We'll beach the boat just yonder, under that tamarack. Whoever it is
+has heard and is coming back."
+
+Margot's impatience broke bounds and she darted forward among the
+trees, shouting: "This way! this way! here we are--here!" Her peculiar
+life and training had made her absolutely fearless, and she would have
+been surprised by her guardian's command to "Wait!" had she heard it,
+which she did not. Also, she knew the forest as other girls know their
+city streets, and the dimness was no hindrance to her nimble feet. In
+a brief time she caught the crashing of boughs as some person, less
+familiar than she, blundered through the underbrush and finally came
+into view where a break in the timber gave a faint light.
+
+"Here! Here! This way!"
+
+He staggered and held out his hands, as if for aid, and Margot clasped
+them firmly. They were cold and tremulous. They were, also, slender
+and smooth, not at all like the hands of any men whom she was used to
+seeing. At the relief of her touch, his strength left him, but she
+caught his murmured:
+
+"Thank God. I--had--given up----"
+
+His voice, too, was different from any she knew, save her own uncle's.
+This was somebody, then, from that outside world of which she dreamed
+so much and knew so little. It was like a fairy tale come true.
+
+"Are you ill? There. Lean on me. Don't fear. Oh! I'm strong, very
+strong, and uncle is just yonder, coming this way. Uncle--uncle!"
+
+The stranger was almost past speech. Mr. Dutton recognized that at
+once and added his support to Margot's. Between them they half-led,
+half-carried the wanderer to the canoe and lifted him into it, where
+he sank exhausted. Then they dipped their paddles and the boat shot
+homeward, racing with death. Angelique was still on the beach and
+still complaining of their foolhardiness, but one word from her master
+silenced that. "Lend a hand, woman! Here's something real to worry
+about. Margot, go ahead and get the lights."
+
+As the girl sprang from it, the housekeeper pulled the boat to a spot
+above the water and, stooping, lifted a generous share of the burden
+it contained.
+
+It had not been a loon, then. No. Well, she had known that from the
+beginnin', just as she had known that her beloved master was in no fit
+condition to go man-huntin'. This one he had found was, probably, dead
+anyway. Of course. Somebody had to die--beyond chickens and such--had
+not the broken glass so said?
+
+Even in the twilight Mr. Dutton could detect the grim satisfaction of
+her face and smiled, foreseeing her change of expression when this
+seemingly lifeless guest should revive.
+
+They laid him on the lounge that had been spread with blankets for
+Margot, and she was already beside it, waiting to administer the herb
+tea which had, also, been prepared for herself, and which she had
+marveled to find so opportunely brewed.
+
+Mr. Dutton smiled again. In her simplicity the girl did not dream that
+the now bitter decoction was not a common restorative outside their
+primitive life, and in all good faith forced a spoonful of it between
+the closed lips.
+
+"After all, it doesn't matter. The poor fellow is doubtless used to
+richer cordials, but it's hot and strong and will do the work. You,
+Angelique, make us a pot of your best coffee, and swing round that
+dinner-pot. The man is almost starved, and I'm on the road to follow
+him. How about you, Margot?"
+
+"Poh! I guess I'm hungry--I will be--see! He's swallowing it. Fast.
+Give me that bigger spoon! Quick!"
+
+"What would you? Scald the creature's throat? So he isn't dead, after
+all. Well, he needn't have made a body think so, he needn't. There,
+Margot! You've messed him with the black stuff!"
+
+Indignantly brushing her child aside the woman seized the cup and
+deftly administered its entire contents. The stranger had not yet
+opened his eyes, but accepted the warm liquid mechanically, and his
+nurse hurried to fill a bowl with the broth of the stew in the kettle.
+This, in turn, was taken from her by Margot, who jealously exclaimed:
+
+"He's mine. I heard him first, I found him first, let me be the first
+he sees. Dish up the supper, please, and set my uncle's place."
+
+So when, a moment later, having been nearly choked by the more
+substantial food forced into his mouth, the guest opened his eyes,
+they beheld the eager face of a brown skinned, fair haired girl very
+close to his and heard her joyous cry:
+
+"He sees me! he sees everything! He's getting well already!"
+
+He had never seen anybody like her. Her hair was as abundant as a
+mantle and rippled over her shoulders like spun silver. So it looked
+in the lamplight. In fact, it had never been bound nor covered, and
+what in a different social condition might have been much darker, had
+in this outdoor life become bleached almost white. The weather which
+had whitened the hair had tanned the skin to bronze, making the blue
+eyes more vivid by contrast and the red lips redder. These were
+smiling now, over well kept teeth, and there was about the whole
+bearing of the maid something suggestive of the woodland in which she
+had been reared.
+
+Purity, honesty, freedom, all spoke in every motion and tone, and to
+this observer, at least, seemed better than any beauty. Presently, he
+was able to push her too willing hand gently away and to say:
+
+"Not quite so fast, please."
+
+"Oh! uncle! Hear him? He talks just as you do! Not a bit like Pierre,
+or Joe, or the rest."
+
+Mr. Dutton came forward, smiling and remonstrating.
+
+"My dear, our new friend will think you quite rude, if you discuss him
+before his face, so frankly. But, sir, I assure you she means nothing
+but delight at your recovery. We are all most thankful that you are
+here and safe. There, Margot. Let the gentleman rest a few minutes.
+Then a cup of coffee may be better than the stew. Were you long
+without food, friend?"
+
+The stranger tried to answer but the effort tired him, and with a
+beckoning nod to the young nurse, the woodlander led the way back to
+the table and their own delayed supper. Both needed it and both ate it
+rather hastily, much to the disgust of Angelique who felt that her
+skill was wasted; but one was anxious to be off out of doors, to learn
+the damage left by the storm, and the other to be back on her stool
+beside the lounge. When Mr. Dutton rose, the housekeeper left her own
+seat.
+
+"I'll fetch the lantern, master. But that's the last of Snowfoot's
+good milk you'll ever drink," she sighed, touching the pitcher sadly.
+
+"What? Is anything wrong with her?"
+
+"The cow-house is in ruins. So are the poultry coops. What with
+falling ill yourself just at the worst time and fetchin' home other
+sick folks we might all go to wrack and nobody the better."
+
+The familiar grumbling provoked only a smile from the master, who
+would readily have staked his life on the woman's devotion to "her
+people" and knew that the apparent crossness was not that in reality.
+
+"Fie, good Angelique! Never so happy as when you're miserable. Come
+on. Nothing must suffer if we can prevent. Take care of our guest,
+Margot, but give him his nourishment slowly, at intervals. I'll get
+some tools, and join you at the shed, Angelique."
+
+He went out and the housekeeper followed with the lantern, not needed
+in the moonlight, but possibly of use at the fallen cow-house.
+
+They were long gone. The stranger dozed, waked, ate, and dozed again.
+Margot, accustomed to early hours, also slept and soundly, till a
+fearful shriek roused her. Her patient was wildly kicking and striking
+at some hideous monster which had settled on his chest and would not
+be displaced.
+
+"He's killing me! Help--help! Oh-a-ah!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+WHAT WAS IN THE NAME
+
+
+Thrusting back the hair that had fallen over her eyes, Margot sprang
+up and stared at the floundering mass of legs, arms, and wings upon
+the wide lounge--a battle to the death, it seemed. Then she caught the
+assailant in her strong hands and flung him aside, while her laughter
+rang out in a way to make the stranger, also, stare, believing she had
+gone crazy with sudden fear.
+
+But his terror had restored his strength most marvelously, for he too,
+leaped to his feet and retreated to the furthest corner of the room,
+whence he regarded the scene with dilated eyes.
+
+"Why--why--it's nobody, nothing but dear old Tom!"
+
+"It's an eagle! The first----"
+
+"Of course, he's an eagle. Aren't you, dear? The most splendid bird
+in Maine, or maybe Canada. The wisest, the most loving, the---- Oh!
+You big blundering precious thing! Scaring people like that. You
+should be more civil, sir."
+
+"Is--is--he tame?"
+
+"Tame as a pet chicken. But mischievous. He wouldn't hurt you for
+anything."
+
+"Humph! He would have killed me if I hadn't waked and yelled."
+
+"Well, you did that surely. You feel better, don't you?"
+
+"I wish you'd put him outdoors, or shut him up where he belongs. I
+want to sit down."
+
+"There's no reason why you shouldn't," she answered, pushing a chair
+toward him.
+
+"Where did you get it--that creature?"
+
+"Uncle found him when he was ever so young. Somebody or something, a
+hunter or some other bird, had hurt his wing and one foot. Eagles can
+be injured by the least little blow upon their wings, you know."
+
+"No. I know nothing about them--yet. But I shall, some day."
+
+"Oh! I hope so. They're delightful to study. Tom is very large, we
+think. He's nearly four feet tall, and his wings---- Spread your
+wings, sir! Spread!"
+
+Margot had dropped upon the floor before the wide fireplace, her
+favorite seat. Her arms clasped her strange pet's body while his white
+head rested lovingly upon her shoulder. His eyes were fixed upon the
+blazing logs and his yellow irises gleamed as if they had caught and
+held the dancing flames. But at her command he shook himself free, and
+extended one mighty wing, while she stretched out the other. Their
+tips were full nine feet apart and seemed to fill and darken the whole
+place.
+
+In spite of this odd girl's fearless handling of the bird, it looked
+most formidable to the visitor, who retreated again to a safe
+distance, though he had begun to advance toward her. And again he
+implored her to put the uncanny "monster" out of the house.
+
+Margot laughed; as she was always doing; but going to the table filled
+a plate with fragments from the stew and calling Tom, set the dish
+before him on the threshold.
+
+"There's your supper, Thomas the King! Which means, no more of
+Angelique's chickens, dead or alive."
+
+The eagle gravely limped out of doors and the visitor felt relieved,
+so that he cast somewhat longing glances upon the table, and Margot
+was quick to understand them. Putting a generous portion upon another
+plate, she moved a chair to the side nearest the fire.
+
+"You're so much stronger, I guess it won't hurt you to take as much as
+you like now. When did you eat anything before?"
+
+"Day before yesterday--I think. I hardly know. The time seems
+confused. As if I had been wandering, round and round, forever. I--was
+almost dead, wasn't I?"
+
+"Yes. But 'twas our housekeeper who was first to see it was
+starvation. Angelique is a Canadian. She lived in the woods long
+before we came to them. She is very wise."
+
+He made no comment, being then too busy eating; but at length,
+even his voracity was satisfied and he had leisure to examine his
+surroundings. He looked at Margot as if girls were as unknown as
+eagles; and indeed such as she were--to him, at least. Her dress was
+of blue flannel, and of the same simple cut that she had always worn.
+A loose blouse, short skirt, full knickerbockers, met at the knees by
+long shoes, or gaiters of buckskin. These were as comfortable and
+pliable as Indian moccasins, and the only footgear she had ever known.
+They were made for her in a distant town, whither Mr. Dutton went for
+needed supplies, and, like the rest of her costume, after a design
+of his own. She was certainly unconventional in manner, but not from
+rudeness so much as from a desire to study him--another unknown
+"specimen" from an outside world. Her speech was correct beyond that
+common among schoolgirls, and her gaze was as friendly as it was
+frank.
+
+Their scrutiny of each other was ended by her exclaiming:
+
+"Why--you are not old! Not much older than Pierre, I believe! It must
+be because you are so dirty that I thought you were a man like uncle."
+
+"Thank you," he answered drily.
+
+But she had no intention of offense. Accustomed all her own life to
+the utmost cleanliness, in the beginning insisted upon by Angelique
+because it was "proper," and by her guardian for health's sake, she
+had grown up with a horror of the discomfort of any untidiness, and
+she felt herself most remiss in her attentions, that she had not
+earlier offered soap and water. Before he realized what she was about,
+she had sped into the little outer room which the household used as a
+lavatory and whirled a wooden tub into its centre. This she promptly
+filled with water from a pipe in the wall, and having hung fresh
+towels on a chair, returned to the living room.
+
+"I'm so sorry. I ought to have thought of that right away. But a bath
+is ready now, if you wish it."
+
+The stranger rose, stammered a little, but accepted what was in truth
+a delightful surprise.
+
+"Well, this is still more amazing! Into what sort of a spot have I
+stumbled? It's a log house, but with apparently, several rooms. It has
+all the comforts of civilization and at least this one luxury. There
+are books, too. I saw them in that inner apartment as I passed the
+open door. The man looks like a gentleman in the disguise of a
+lumberman, and the girl--what'll she do next? Ask me where I came from
+and why, I presume. If she does, I'll have to answer her, and
+truthfully. I can't fancy anybody lying to those blue eyes. Maybe she
+won't ask."
+
+She did, however, as soon as he reentered the living room, refreshed
+and certainly much more attractive in appearance than when he had had
+the soil and litter of his long wandering upon him.
+
+"Oh! how much more comfortable you must be. How did you get lost? Is
+your home far from here?"
+
+"A long, long way;" and for a moment, something like sadness touched
+his face. That look passed quickly and a defiant expression took its
+place.
+
+"What a pity! It will be so much harder to get word to your people.
+Maybe Pierre can carry a message, or show you the road, once you are
+strong enough again."
+
+"Who's Pierre?"
+
+"Mother Ricord's son. He's a woodlander and wiser even than she is.
+He's really more French than Indian, but uncle says the latter race is
+strongest in him. It often is in his type."
+
+"A-ah, indeed! So you study types up here, do you?"
+
+"Yes. Uncle makes it so interesting. You see, he got used to teaching
+stupid people when he was a professor in his college. I'm dreadfully
+stupid about books, though I do my best. But I love living things; and
+the books about animals, and races, are charming. When they're true,
+that is. Often they're not. There's one book on squirrels uncle keeps
+as a curiosity, to show how little the writer knew about them. And the
+pictures are no more like squirrels than--than they are like me."
+
+"A-ah," said the listener, again. "That explains."
+
+"I don't know what you mean. No matter. It's the old stupidity, I
+suppose. How did you get lost?"
+
+"The same prevailing stupidity," he laughed. "Though I didn't realize
+it for that quality. Just thought I was smart, you know--conceit.
+I--I--well, I didn't get on so very well at the lumber camp I'd
+joined. I wasn't used to work of that sort and there didn't seem
+to be room, even in the woods, for a greenhorn. I thought it was
+easy enough. I could find my way anywhere, in any wilderness,
+with my outfit. I'd brought that along, or bought it after I left
+civilization; so one night I left, set out to paddle my own canoe. I
+paddled it into the rapids, what those fellows called rips, and they
+ripped me to ruin. Upset, lost all my kit, tried to find my way back,
+wandered and walked forever and ever, it seemed to me, and--you know
+the rest."
+
+"But I do not. Did you keep hallooing all that long time? or how did
+it happen we heard you?"
+
+"I was in a rocky place when that tornado came and it was near the
+water. I had just sense enough left to know they could protect me and
+crept under them. Oh! that was awful--awful!"
+
+"It must have been, but I was so deep in our cave that I heard but
+little of it. Uncle and Angelique thought I was out in it and lost.
+They suffered about it, and uncle tried to make a fire and was sick.
+We had just got home when we heard you."
+
+"After the storm I crawled out and I saw you in the boat. You seemed
+to have come right out of the earth and I shouted, or tried to. I kept
+on shouting, even after you were out of sight and then I got
+discouraged and tried once more to find a road out."
+
+"I was singing so loud I suppose I didn't hear, at first. I'm so
+sorry. But it's all right now. You're safe, and some way will be found
+to get you to your home, or that lumber camp, if you'd rather."
+
+"Suppose I do not wish to go to either place? What then?"
+
+Margot stared. "Not--wish--to go--to your own dear--home?"
+
+The stranger smiled at the amazement of her face.
+
+"Maybe not. Especially as I don't know how I would be received there.
+What if I was foolish and didn't know when I was well off? What if I
+ran away, meaning to stay away forever?"
+
+"Well, if it hadn't been for the rocks, and me, it would have been
+forever. But God made the rocks and gave them to you for a shelter;
+and He made me, and sent me out on the lake so you should see me and
+be found. If He wants you to go back to that home He'll find a way.
+Now, it's queer. Here we've been talking ever so long yet I don't know
+who you are. You know all of us: Uncle Hugh Dutton, Angelique Ricord,
+and me. I'm Margot Romeyn. What is your name?"
+
+"Mine? Oh! I'm Adrian Wadislaw. A good-for-nought, some people say.
+Young Wadislaw, the sinner, son of old Wadislaw, the saint."
+
+The answer was given recklessly, while the dark young face grew sadly
+bitter and defiant.
+
+After a moment, something startled Margot from the shocked surprise
+with which she had heard this harsh reply. It was a sigh, almost a
+groan, as from one who had been more deeply startled even than
+herself. Turning, she saw the master standing in the doorway, staring
+at their visitor as if he had seen a ghost and nearly as white as one
+himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+IN ALADDIN LAND
+
+
+It seemed to Margot, watching, that it was an endless time her uncle
+stood there gazing with that startled look upon their guest. In
+reality it was but a moment. Then he passed his hand over his eyes, as
+one who would brush away a mist, and came forward. He was still unduly
+pale, but he spoke in a courteous, almost natural manner, and quietly
+accepted the chair Margot hastened to bring him.
+
+"You are getting rested, Mr.----"
+
+"Oh! please don't 'Mister' me, sir. You've been so good to me and
+I'm not used to the title. Though, in my scratches and wood-dirt,
+his young lady did take me for an old fellow. Yes, thanks to her
+thoughtfulness, I've found myself again, and I'm just 'Adrian,' if
+you'll be so kind."
+
+There was something very winning in this address, and it suited
+the elder man well. The stranger was scarcely out of boyhood and
+reminded the old collegian of other lads whom he had known and loved.
+"Wadislaw" was not a particularly pleasing name that one should dwell
+upon it, unless necessary. "Adrian" was better and far more common.
+Neither did it follow that this person was of a family he remembered
+far too well; and so Mr. Dutton reassured himself. In any case the
+youth was now "the stranger within the gates" and therefore entitled
+to the best.
+
+"Adrian, then. We are a simple household, following the old habit of
+early to bed and to rise. You must be tired enough to sleep anywhere,
+and there is another big lounge in my study. You would best occupy it
+to-night, and to-morrow Angelique will fix you better quarters. Few
+guests favor us in our far-away home," he finished with a smile that
+was full of hospitality.
+
+Adrian rose at once and bidding Margot and Angelique good-night,
+followed his host into a big room which, save for the log walls, might
+have been the library of some city home. It was a room which somehow
+gave him the impression of vastness, liberality, and freedom--an
+enclosed bit of the outside forest. Like each of the other apartments
+he had seen it had its great fireplace and its blazing logs, not at
+all uncomfortable now in the chill that had come after the storm.
+
+But he was too worn out to notice much more than these details, and
+without undressing, dropped upon the lounge and drew the Indian
+blanket over him. His head rested upon great pillows stuffed with
+fragrant spruce needles, and this perfume of the woods soothed him
+into instant sleep.
+
+But Hugh Dutton stood for many minutes, gravely studying the face of
+the unconscious stranger. It was a comely, intelligent face, though
+marred by self-will and indulgence, and with each passing second its
+features grew more and more painfully familiar. Why, why, had it come
+into his distant retreat to disturb his peace? A peace that it had
+taken fifteen years of life to gain, that had been achieved only by
+bitter struggle with self and with all that was lowest in a noble
+nature.
+
+"Alas! And I believed I had at last learned to forgive!"
+
+But none the less because of the bitterness would this man be unjust.
+His very flesh recoiled from contact with that other flesh, fair as it
+might be in the sight of most eyes, yet he forced himself to draw with
+utmost gentleness the covering over the sleeper's shoulders, and to
+interpose a screening chair between him and the firelight.
+
+"Well, one may at least control his actions, if not his thoughts," he
+murmured and quietly left the place.
+
+A few moments later he stood regarding Margot, also, as she lay in
+sleep, and all the love of his strong nature rose to protect her from
+the sorrow which she would have to bear some time but--not yet! Oh!
+not yet! Then he turned quickly and went out of doors.
+
+There had been nights in this woodlander's life when no roof could
+cover him. When even the forest seemed to suffocate, and when he had
+found relief only upon the bald bare top of that rocky height which
+crowned the island. On such nights he had gone out early and come home
+with the daybreak, and none had known of his absence, save, now and
+then, the faithful Angelique, who knew the master's story but kept it
+to herself.
+
+Margot had never guessed of these midnight expeditions, nor understood
+the peculiar love and veneration her guardian had for that mountain
+top. She better loved the depths of the wonderful forest, with its
+flowers and ferns, and its furred or feathered creatures. She was
+dreaming of these, the next morning, when her uncle's cheery whistle
+called her to get up.
+
+A cold plunge, a swift dressing, and she was with him, seeing no
+signs of either illness or sorrow in his genial face, and eager with
+plans for the coming day. All her days were delightful, but this would
+be best of all.
+
+"To think, uncle dear, that somebody else has come at last to see our
+island! why, there's so much to show him I can hardly wait, nor know
+where best to begin."
+
+"Suppose, Miss Impatience, we begin with breakfast? Here comes Adrian.
+Ask his opinion."
+
+"Never was so hungry in my life!" agreed that youth, as he came
+hastily forward to bid them both good-morning. "I mean--not since
+last night. I wonder if a fellow that's been half-starved, or
+three-quarters even, will ever get his appetite down to normal again?
+It seems to me I could eat a whole wild animal at a sitting!"
+
+"So you shall, boy. So you shall!" cried Angelique, who now came in
+carrying a great dish of browned and smoking fish. This she placed at
+her master's end of the table and flanked it with another platter of
+daintily crisped potatoes. There were heaps of delicate biscuits, with
+coffee and cakes galore; enough, the visitor thought, to satisfy even
+his own extravagant hunger, and again he wondered at such fare in such
+a wilderness.
+
+"Why, this might be a hotel table!" he exclaimed, in unfeigned
+pleasure. "Not much like lumberman's fare: salt pork, bad bread,
+molasses-sweetened tea, and the everlasting beans. I hope I shall
+never have to look another bean in the face! But that coffee! I never
+smelled anything so delicious."
+
+"Had some last night," commented Angelique, shortly. She perceived
+that this stranger was in some way obnoxious to her beloved master,
+and she resented the surprise with which he had seen her take her own
+place behind the tray. Her temper seemed fairly cross-edged that
+morning and Margot remarked:
+
+"Don't mind mother. She's dreadfully disappointed that nobody died and
+no bad luck followed her breaking a mirror, yesterday."
+
+"No bad luck?" demanded Angelique, looking at Adrian with so marked a
+manner that it spoke volumes. "And as for dyin'--you've but to go into
+the woods and you'll see."
+
+Here Tom created a diversion by entering and limping straight to the
+stranger's side, who moved away, then blushed at his own timidity,
+seeing the amusement with which the others regarded him.
+
+"Oh! we're all one family here, servants and ever'body," cried the
+woman, tossing the eagle a crumb of biscuit.
+
+But the big bird was not to be drawn from his scrutiny of this new
+face; and the gravity of his unwinking gaze was certainly
+disconcerting.
+
+"Get out, you uncanny creature! Beg pardon, Miss Margot, but I'm--he
+seems to have a special grudge against me."
+
+"Oh! no. He doesn't understand who you are, yet. We had a man here
+last year, helping uncle, and Tom acted just as he does now. Though
+he never would make friends with the Canadian, as I hope he will with
+you."
+
+Angelique flashed a glance toward the girl. Why should she, or anybody
+speak as if this lad's visit were to be a prolonged one? And they had,
+both she and the master. He had bidden the servant fill a fresh "tick"
+with the dried and shredded fern leaves and pine needles, such as
+supplied their own mattresses; and to put all needful furnishings into
+the one disused room of the cabin.
+
+"But, master! When you've always acted as if that were bein' kept for
+somebody who was comin' some day. Somebody you love!" she protested.
+
+"I have settled the matter, Angelique. Don't fear that I've not
+thought it all out. 'Do unto others,' you know. For each day its duty,
+its battle with self, and, please God, its victory."
+
+"He's a saint, ever'body knows; and there's somethin' behind all this
+I don't understand!" she had muttered, but had also done his bidding,
+still complaining.
+
+Commonly, meals were leisurely affairs in that forest home, but on
+this morning Mr. Dutton set an example of haste that the others
+followed; and as soon as their appetites were satisfied he rose and
+said:
+
+"I'll show you your own room now, Adrian. Occupy it as long as you
+wish. And find something to amuse yourself with while I am gone; for I
+have much to do out of doors. It was the worst storm, for its
+duration, that ever struck us. Fortunately, most of the outbuildings
+need only repairs, but Snowfoot's home is such a wreck she must have a
+new one. Margot, will you run up the signal for Pierre?"
+
+"Yes, indeed! Though I believe he will come without it. He'll be
+curious about the tornado, too, and it's near his regular visiting
+time."
+
+The room assigned to Adrian excited his fresh surprise; though he
+assured himself that he would be amazed at nothing further, when he
+saw lying upon a table in the middle of the floor, two complete suits
+of clothing, apparently placed there by the thoughtful host for his
+guest to use. They were not of the latest style, but perfectly new and
+bore the stamp of a well-known tailor of his own city.
+
+"Where did he get them, and so soon? What a mammoth of a house it is,
+though built of logs. And isn't it the most fitting and beautiful of
+houses, after all? Whence came those comfortable chairs? and the
+books? Most of all, where and how did he get that wonderful picture
+over that magnificent log mantel? It looks like a room made ready for
+the unexpected coming of some prodigal son! I'm that, sure enough; but
+not of this household. If I were--well, maybe---- Oh! hum!"
+
+The lad crossed the floor and gazed reverently at the solitary
+painting which the room contained. A marvelously lifelike head of the
+Man of Sorrows, bending forward and gazing upon the onlooker with eyes
+of infinite tenderness and appealing. Beneath it ran the inscription:
+"Come Unto Me"; and in one corner was the artist's signature--a broken
+pine branch.
+
+"Whew! I wonder if that fellow ran away from home because he loved a
+brush and paint tube! What sort of a spot have I strayed into, anyway?
+A paradise? Hmm. I wish the mater could see me now. She'd not be so
+unhappy over her unworthy son, maybe. Bless her, anyhow. If everybody
+had been like her----"
+
+He finished his soliloquy before an open window, through which he
+could see the summit of the bare mountain that crowned the centre of
+the island, and was itself crowned by a single pine-tree. Though many
+of its branches had been lopped away, enough were left to form a sort
+of spiral stairway up its straight trunk and to its lofty top.
+
+"What a magnificent flagstaff that would make! I'd like to see Old
+Glory floating there. Believe I'll suggest it to the magician--that's
+what this woodlander is--and doubtless he'll attend to that little
+matter! Shades of Aladdin!"
+
+[Illustration: SHE UNROLLED THE STARS AND STRIPES]
+
+Adrian was so startled that he dropped into a chair, the better to
+sustain himself against further Arabian-nights-like discoveries.
+
+It was a flagstaff! Somebody was climbing it--Margot! Up, up, like a
+squirrel, her blond head appearing first on one side then the other, a
+glowing budget strapped to her back.
+
+Adrian gasped. No sailor could have been more fleet or sure-footed. It
+seemed but a moment before that slender figure had scaled the topmost
+branch and was unrolling the brilliant burden it had borne. The stars
+and stripes, of course. Adrian would have been bitterly disappointed
+if it had been anything else this agile maiden hoisted from that dizzy
+height.
+
+In wild excitement and admiration the watcher leaned out of his
+window and shouted hoarsely:
+
+"Hurrah! H-u-r-rah! H-U-R----!"
+
+The cheer died in his throat. Something had happened. Something too
+awful to contemplate. Adrian's eyes closed that he might not see. Had
+her foot slipped? Had his own cry reached and startled her?
+
+For she was falling--falling! and the end could be but one.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+A ONE-SIDED STORY
+
+
+Adrian was not a gymnast though he had seen and admired many wonderful
+feats performed by his own classmates. But he had never beheld a
+miracle, and such he believed had been accomplished when, upon
+reaching the foot of that terrible tree, he found Margot sitting
+beneath it, pale and shaken, but, apparently, unhurt.
+
+She had heard his breathless crashing up the slope and greeted him
+with a smile, and the tremulous question:
+
+"How did you know where I was?"
+
+"You aren't--dead?"
+
+"Certainly not. I might have been, though, but God took care."
+
+"Was it my cheers frightened you?"
+
+"Was it you, then? I heard something, different from the wood sounds,
+and I looked quick to see. Then my foot slipped and I went down--a
+way. I caught a branch just in time and, please, don't tell uncle. I'd
+rather do that myself."
+
+"You should never do such a thing. The idea of a girl climbing trees
+at all, least of any, such a tree as that!"
+
+He threw his head back and looked upward, through the green spiral to
+the brilliant sky. The enormous height revived the horror he had felt
+as he leaped through the window and rushed to the mountain.
+
+"Who planned such a death-trap as that, anyway?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"You! A girl!"
+
+"Yes. Why not. It's great fun, usually."
+
+"You'd better have been learning to sew."
+
+"I can sew, but I don't like it. Angelique does that. I do like
+climbing and canoeing and botanizing, and geologizing, and
+astronomizing, and----"
+
+Adrian threw up his hands in protest.
+
+"What sort of creature are you, anyway?"
+
+"Just plain girl."
+
+"Anything but that!"
+
+"Well, girl, without the adjective. Suits me rather better;" and she
+laughed in a way that proved she was not suffering from her mishap.
+
+"This is the strangest place I ever saw. You are the strangest family.
+We are certainly in the backwoods of Maine, yet you might be a Holyoke
+senior, or a circus star, or--a fairy."
+
+Margot stretched her long arms and looked at them quizzically.
+
+"Fairies don't grow so big. Why don't you sit down? Or, if you will,
+climb up and look toward the narrows on the north. See if Pierre's
+birch is coming yet."
+
+Again Adrian glanced upward, to the flag floating there, and shrugged
+his shoulders.
+
+"Excuse me, please. That is, I suppose I could do it, only seeing you
+slip--I prefer to wait awhile."
+
+"Are you afraid?"
+
+There was no sarcasm in the question. She asked it in all sincerity.
+Adrian was different from Pierre, the only other boy she knew, and she
+simply wondered if tree-climbing were among his unknown
+accomplishments.
+
+It had been, to the extent possible with his city training and his
+brief summer vacations, though unpracticed of late; but no lad of
+spirit, least of all impetuous Adrian, could bear even the suggestion
+of cowardice. He did not sit down, as she had bidden, but tossed aside
+his rough jacket and leaped to the lower branch of the pine.
+
+"Why, it's easy! It's grand!" he called back and went up swiftly
+enough.
+
+Indeed, it was not so difficult as it appeared from a distance.
+Wherever the branches failed the spiral ladder had been perfected by
+great spikes driven into the trunk and he had but to clasp these in
+turn to make a safe ascent. At the top he waved his hand, then shaded
+his eyes and peered northward.
+
+"He's coming! Somebody's coming!" he shouted. "There's a little boat
+pushing off from that other shore."
+
+Then he descended with a rapidity that delighted even himself and
+called a bit of praise from Margot.
+
+"I'm so glad you can climb. One can see so much more from the
+tree-tops; and, oh! there is so much, so much to find out all the
+time! Isn't there?"
+
+"Yes. Decidedly. One of the things I'd like to find out first is who
+you are and how you came here. If you're willing."
+
+Then he added, rather hastily: "Of course, I don't want to be
+impertinently curious. It only seems so strange to find such educated
+people buried here in the north woods. I don't see how you live here.
+I--I----"
+
+But the more he tried to explain the more confused he grew, and Margot
+merrily simplified matters by declaring:
+
+"You are curious, all the same, and so am I. Let's tell each other all
+about everything and then we'll start straight without the bother of
+stopping as we go along. Do sit down and I'll begin."
+
+"Ready."
+
+"There's so little, I shan't be long. My dear mother was Cecily
+Dutton, my Uncle Hugh's twin. My father was Philip Romeyn, uncle's
+closest friend. They were almost more than brothers to each other,
+always; though uncle was a student and, young as he was, a professor
+at Columbia. Papa was a business man, a banker, or a cashier in a
+bank. He wasn't rich, but mamma and uncle had money. From the time
+they were boys uncle and papa were fond of the woods. They were great
+hunters, then, and spent all the time they could get up here in
+northern Maine. After the marriage mamma begged to come with them, and
+it was her money bought this island, and the land along the shore of
+this lake as far as we can see from here. Much farther, too, of
+course, because the trees hide things. They built this log cabin and
+it cost a great, great deal to do it. They had to bring the workmen so
+far, but it was finished at last, and everything was brought up here
+to make it--just as you see."
+
+"What an ideal existence!"
+
+"Was it? I don't know much about ideals, though uncle talks of them
+sometimes. It was real, that's all. They were very, very happy. They
+loved each other so dearly. Angelique came from Canada to keep the
+house and she says my mother was the sweetest woman she ever saw. Oh!
+I wish--I wish I could have seen her! Or that I might remember her.
+I'll show you her portrait. It hangs in my own room."
+
+"Did she die?"
+
+"Yes. When I was a year old. My father had passed away before that,
+and my mother was broken-hearted. Even for uncle and me she could not
+bear to live. It was my father's wish that we should come up here to
+stay, and Uncle Hugh left everything and came. I was to be reared 'in
+the wilderness, where nothing evil comes,' was what both my parents
+said. So I have been, and--that's all."
+
+Adrian was silent for some moments. The girl's face had grown dreamy
+and full of a pathetic tenderness as it always did when she discussed
+her unknown father and mother, even with Angelique. Though, in
+reality, she had not been allowed to miss what she had never known.
+Then she looked up with a smile and observed:
+
+"Your turn."
+
+"Yes--I--suppose so. May as well give the end of my story first----
+I'm a runaway."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"No matter why."
+
+"That isn't fair."
+
+He parried the indignation of her look by some further questions of
+his own. "Have you always lived here?"
+
+"Always."
+
+"You go to the towns sometimes, I suppose."
+
+"I've never seen a town, except in pictures."
+
+"Whew! Don't you have any friends? Any girls come to see you?"
+
+"I never saw a girl, only myself in that poor broken glass of
+Angelique's; and, of course, the pictured ones--as of the towns--in
+the books."
+
+"You poor child!"
+
+Margot's brown face flushed. She wanted nobody's pity and she had not
+felt that her life was a singular or narrow one, till this outsider
+came. A wish very like Angelique's, that he had stayed where he
+belonged, arose in her heart, but she dismissed it as inhospitable.
+
+"I'm not poor. Not in the least. I have everything any girl could want
+and I have--uncle! He is the best, the wisest, the noblest man in all
+the world. I know it, and so Angelique says. She's been in your
+towns, if you please. Lived in them and says she never knew what
+comfort meant until she came to Peace Island and us. You don't
+understand."
+
+Margot was more angry than she had ever been, and anger made her
+decidedly uncomfortable. She sprang up hastily, saying:
+
+"If you've nothing to tell, I must go. I want to get into the forest
+and look after my friends there. The storm may have hurt them."
+
+She was off down the mountain, as swift and sure-footed as if it were
+not a rough pathway that made him blunder along very slowly. For he
+followed, at once, feeling that he had not been "fair," as she had
+accused, in his report of himself; and that only a complete confidence
+was due these people who had treated him so kindly.
+
+"Margot! Margot! Wait a minute! You're too swift for me! I want
+to----"
+
+Just there he caught his foot in a running vine, stumbled over a
+hidden rock, and measured his length, head downward, on the slope. He
+was not hurt, however, though vexed and mortified. But when he had
+picked himself up and looked around the girl had vanished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A WOODLAND MENAGERIE
+
+
+"Hoo-ah! Yo-ho! H-e-r-e! This--way!"
+
+Adrian followed the voice. It led him aside into the woods on the
+eastern slope, and it was accompanied by an indescribable babel of
+noises. Running water, screaming of wild fowl, cooing of pigeons,
+barking of dogs or some other beasts, cackling, chattering, laughter.
+
+All the sounds of wild life had ceased suddenly in the tree-tops, as
+Adrian approached, recognizing and fearing his alien presence. But
+they were reassured by Margot's familiar summons, and soon the
+"menagerie" he had suspected was gathered about her.
+
+"Whew! It just rains squirrels--and chipmunks--and birds! Hello!
+That's a fawn. That's a fox! As sure as I'm alive, a magnificent red
+fox! Why isn't he eating the whole outfit? And---- Hurra!"
+
+To the amazement of the watcher there came from the depths of the
+woods a sound that always thrills the pulses of any hunter--the cry of
+a moose-calf, accompanied by a soft crashing of branches, growing
+gradually louder.
+
+"So they tame even the moose--these wonderful people! What next!" and
+as Adrian leaned forward the better to watch the advance of this
+uncommon "pet," the "next" concerning which he had speculated also
+approached. Slowly up the river bank, stalked a pair of blue herons,
+and for them Margot had her warmest welcome.
+
+"Heigho, Xanthippe, Socrates! What laggards! But here's your
+breakfast, or one of them. I suppose you've eaten the other long ago.
+Indeed, you're always eating, gourmands!"
+
+The red fox eyed the newcomers with a longing eye and crept cautiously
+to his mistress' side as she coaxed the herons nearer. But she was
+always prepared for any outbreak of nature among her forest friends,
+and drew him also close to her with the caressing touch she might have
+bestowed upon a beloved house-dog.
+
+"Reynard, you beauty! Your head in my lap, sir;" and dropping to a
+sitting posture, she forced him to obey her. There he lay, winking but
+alert, while she scattered her store of good things right and left.
+There were nuts for the squirrels and 'munks, grains and seeds for the
+winged creatures, and for the herons, as well as Reynard, a few bits
+of dried meat. But for Browser, the moose-calf, she pulled the tender
+twigs and foliage with a lavish hand. When she had given some dainty
+to each of her oddly assorted pets, she sprang up, closed the box, and
+waved her arms in dismissal. The more timid of the creatures obeyed
+her, but some held their ground persistently, hoping for greater
+favors. To these she paid no further attention, and still keeping
+hold of Reynard's neck started back to her human guest.
+
+The fox, however, declined to accompany her. He distrusted strangers
+and it may be had designs of his own upon some other forest wilding.
+
+"That's the worst of it. We tame them and they love us. But they are
+only conquered, not changed. Isn't Reynard beautiful? Doesn't he look
+noble? as noble as a St. Bernard dog? If you'll believe me, that
+fellow is thoroughly acquainted with every one of Angelique's fowls,
+and knows he must never, never touch them, yet he'd eat one, quick as
+a flash, if he got a chance. He's a coward, though; and by his
+cowardice we manage him. Sometimes;" sighed Margot, who had led the
+way into a little path toward the lake.
+
+"How odd! You seem actually grieved at this state of things."
+
+"Why shouldn't I be? I love him and I have a notion that love will do
+anything with anybody or anything. I do believe it will, but that I
+haven't found just the right way of showing it. Uncle laughs at me, a
+little, but helps me all he can. Indeed, it is he who has tamed most
+of our pets. He says it is the very best way to study natural
+history."
+
+"Hmm. He intends your education shall be complete!"
+
+"Of course. But one thing troubles him. He cannot teach me music. And
+you seem surprised. Aren't girls, where you come from, educated?
+Doesn't everybody prize knowledge?"
+
+"That depends. Our girls are educated, of course. They go to college
+and all that, but I think you'd down any of them in exams. For my own
+part, I ran away just because I did not want this famous 'education'
+you value. That is, I didn't of a certain sort. I wasn't fair with you
+awhile ago, you said. I'd like to tell you my story now."
+
+"I'd like to hear it, of course. But, look yonder! Did you ever see
+anything like that?"
+
+Margot was proud of the surprises she was able to offer this stranger
+in her woods, and pointed outward over the lake. They had just come to
+an open place on the shore and the water spread before them sparkling
+in the sunlight. Something was crossing the smooth surface, heading
+straight for their island, and of a nature to make Adrian cry out:
+
+"Oh! for a gun!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+KING MADOC
+
+
+"If you had one you should not use it! Are you a dreadful hunter?"
+
+Margot had turned upon her guest with a defiant fear. As near as she
+had ever come to hating anything she hated the men, of whom she had
+heard, who used this wonderful northland as a murder ground. That was
+what she named it, in her uncompromising judgment of those who killed
+for the sake of killing, for the lust of blood that was in them.
+
+"Yes. I reckon I am a 'dreadful' hunter, for I am a mighty poor shot.
+But I'd like a try at that fellow. What horns! What a head! And how
+can that fellow in the canoe keep so close to him, yet not finish
+him!"
+
+Adrian was so excited he could not stand still. His eyes gleamed, his
+hands clenched, and his whole appearance was changed. Greatly for the
+worse, the girl thought, regarding him with disgust.
+
+"Finish him? That's King Madoc, Pierre's trained bull-moose. You'd be
+finished yourself, I fear, if you harmed that splendid creature.
+Pierre's a lazy fellow, mostly, but he spent a long time teaching
+Madoc, and with his temper--I'm thankful you lost your gun."
+
+"Do you never shoot things up here? I saw you giving the fox and
+herons what looked like meat. You had a stew for supper, and fish for
+breakfast. I don't mean to be impertinent, but the sight of that big
+game---- Whew!"
+
+"Yes. We do kill things, or have them killed, when it is necessary for
+food. Never in sport. Man is almost the only animal who does that.
+It's all terrible, seems to me. Everything preys upon something else,
+weaker than itself. Sometimes when I think of it my dinner chokes me.
+It's so easy to take life, and only God can create it. But uncle says
+it is also God's law to take what is provided, and that there is no
+mistake, even if it seems such to me."
+
+But there Margot perceived that Adrian was not listening. Instead, he
+was watching, with the intensest interest, the closer approach of the
+canoe, in which sat idle Pierre, holding the reins of a harness
+attached to his aquatic steed. The moose swam easily, with powerful
+strokes, and Pierre was singing a gay melody, richer in his unique
+possession than any king.
+
+When he touched the shore and the great animal stood shaking his wet
+hide, Adrian's astonishment found vent in a whirlwind of questions
+that Pierre answered at his leisure and after his kind. But he walked
+first toward Margot and offered a great bunch of trailing arbutus
+flowers, saying:
+
+"I saw these just as I pushed off and went back after them. What's the
+matter here, that the flag is up? It was the biggest storm I ever
+saw. Yes. A deal of beasties are killed back on the mainland. Any dead
+over here?"
+
+"No, I am glad to say, none that we know of. But Snowfoot's shed is
+down and uncle is going to build a new one. I hope you've come to
+work."
+
+Pierre laughed and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Oh! yes."
+
+But his interest in work was far less than in the stranger whom he now
+answered, and whose presence on Peace Island was a mystery to him.
+Heretofore, the only visitors there had been laborers or traders, but
+this young fellow so near his own age, despite his worn clothing, was
+of another sort. He recognized this, at once, as Margot had done, and
+his curiosity made him ask:
+
+"Where'd you come from? Hurricane blow you out the sky?"
+
+"About the same. I was lost in the woods and Margot found me and saved
+my life. What'll you take for that moose?"
+
+"There isn't money enough in the state of Maine to buy him!"
+
+"Nonsense. Well, if there was I haven't it. But you could get a good
+price for it anywhere."
+
+Pierre looked Adrian over. From his appearance the lad was not likely
+to be possessed of much cash, but the moose-trainer was eager for
+capital, and never missed an opportunity of seeking it.
+
+"I want to go into the show business. What do you say? would you
+furnish the tents and fixings? And share the profits. I'm no scholar,
+but maybe you'd know enough to get out the hand-bills and so on. What
+do you say?"
+
+"I--say---- What you mean, Pierre Ricord, keepin' the master waitin',
+your foolishness, and him half sick? What kept you twice as long as
+you ought? Hurry up, now, and put that moose in the cow-yard and get
+to work."
+
+The interruption was caused by Angelique, and it was curious to see
+the fear with which she inspired the great fellow, her son. He forgot
+the stranger, the show business, and all his own immediate interests,
+and with the docility of a little child obeyed. Unhitching his odd
+steed, he turned the canoe bottom upward on the beach and hastily led
+the animal toward that part of the island clearing, where Snowfoot
+stood in a little fenced-in lot behind her ruined shed.
+
+Adrian went with him, and asked:
+
+"Won't those two animals fight?"
+
+"Won't get a chance. When one goes in the other goes out. Here, bossy,
+you can take the range of the island. Get out!"
+
+She was more willing to go than Madoc to enter the cramped place, but
+the transfer was made and Adrian lingered by the osier paling, to
+observe at close range this subjugated monarch of the forest.
+
+"Oh! for a palette and brush!" he exclaimed, while Pierre walked away.
+
+"What would you do with them?"
+
+Margot had followed the lads and was beside him, though he had not
+heard her footsteps. Now he wheeled about, eager, enthusiastic.
+
+"Paint--as I have never painted before!"
+
+"Oh!--are you an--artist?"
+
+"I want to be one. That's why I'm here."
+
+"What? What do you mean?"
+
+"I told you I was a runaway. I didn't say 'why,' before. It's truth.
+My people, my--father--forced me to college. I hated it. He was
+forcing me to business. I liked art. All my friends were artists. When
+I should have been at the books I was in their studios. They were a
+gay crowd, spent money like water when they had it, merrily starved
+and pinched when they hadn't. A few were worse than spendthrifts, and
+with my usual want of sense I made that particular set my intimates. I
+never had any money, though, after it was suspected what my tastes
+were. Except a little that my mother gave me."
+
+Margot was listening breathlessly and watching intently. At the
+mention of his mother a shadow crossed Adrian's face, softening and
+bettering it, and his whole mood seemed to change.
+
+Their talk drifted from vexing subjects to merry anecdotes of Adrian's
+childhood, in the home where he had been the petted only brother of a
+half-dozen elder sisters. But while they laughed and Margot listened,
+her fingers were busy weaving a great garland of wild laurel, and when
+it was finished she rose and said:
+
+"It's getting late. There'll be just time to take this to the grave.
+Will you go with me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+But this was another of the puzzling things he found at Peace Island.
+In its very loveliest nook was the last resting-place of Cecily
+Romeyn, and the sacred spot was always beautiful with flowers, or in
+the winter, with brilliant berries. Both the master and the girl spoke
+of their dead as if she were still present with them; or at least
+lived as if she were only removed from sight but not from their lives.
+
+When Margot had laid the fresh wreath upon the mound, she carefully
+removed the faded flowers of the day before, and a thought of his own
+mother stirred Adrian's heart.
+
+"I wish I could send a bunch of such blossoms to my mother!"
+
+"How can you live without her, since she is still alive?"
+
+His face hardened again.
+
+"You forget. I told you that she, too, turned against me at the last.
+It was a case of husband or son, and she made her choice."
+
+"Oh! no. She was unhappy. One may do strange things, then, I suppose.
+But I tell you one thing, if I had either father or mother, anywhere
+in this world, nothing should ever, ever make me leave them. Nothing.
+I would bear anything, do anything, suffer anything--but I would be
+true to them. I could not forget that I was their child, and if I had
+done wrong to them my whole life would be too short to make
+atonement."
+
+She spoke strongly, as she felt. So early orphaned, she had come to
+think of parents as the most wonderful blessing in the power of God to
+leave one. She loved her Uncle Hugh like a second father, but her
+tenderest dreams were over the pictured faces of her dead.
+
+"Where is your father buried?"
+
+It was the simplest, most natural question.
+
+"I--don't--know."
+
+They stared at one another. It was proof of her childlike acceptance
+of her life that she had never asked. Had never thought to do so,
+even. She had been told that he had "passed out of sight" before they
+came to Peace Island and the forest, and had asked no further
+concerning him. Of his character and habits she had heard much. Her
+uncle was never weary in extolling his virtues; but of his death he
+had said only what has been written.
+
+"But--I must know right away!"
+
+In her eagerness she ran, and Adrian followed as swiftly. He was sorry
+for his thoughtless inquiry, but regret came too late. He tried to
+call Margot back, but she would not wait.
+
+"I must know. I must know right away. Why have I never known before?"
+
+Hugh Dutton was resting after a day of study and mental labor, and his
+head leaned easily upon his cushioned chair. Yet as his dear child
+entered his room he held out his arms to draw her to his knee.
+
+"In a minute, uncle. But Adrian has asked me something and it is the
+strangest thing that I cannot answer him. Where is my father buried?"
+
+If she had dealt him a mortal blow he could not have turned more
+white. With a groan that pierced her very heart, he stared at Margot
+with wide, unseeing eyes; then sprang to his feet and fixed upon poor
+Adrian a look that scorched.
+
+"You! You?" he gasped, and sinking back covered his face with his
+hands.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+PERPLEXITIES
+
+
+What had he done?
+
+Ignorant why his simple question should have had such strange results,
+that piercing look made Adrian feel the veriest culprit, and he
+hastened to leave the room and the cabin. Hurrying to the beach he
+appropriated Margot's little canvas canoe and pushed out upon the
+lake. From her and Pierre he had learned to handle the light craft
+with considerable skill and he now worked off his excitement by swift
+paddling, so that there was soon a wide distance between him and the
+island.
+
+Then he paused and looked around him, upon as fair a scene as could
+be found in any land. Unbroken forests bounded this hidden Lake
+Profundis, out of whose placid waters rose that mountain-crowned,
+verdure-clad Island of Peace, with its picturesque home, and its
+cultured owner, who had brought into this best of the wilderness the
+best of civilization.
+
+"What is this mystery? How am I concerned in it? For I am, and mystery
+there is. It is like that mist over the island, which I can see and
+feel but cannot touch. Pshaw! I'm getting sentimental, when I ought to
+be turning detective. Yet I couldn't do that--pry into the private
+affairs of a man who's treated me so generously. What shall I do? How
+can I go back there? But where else can I go?"
+
+At thought that he might never return to the roof he had quitted, a
+curious homesickness seized him.
+
+"Who'll hunt what game they need? Who'll catch their fish? Who'll keep
+the garden growing? Where can I study the forest and its furry people,
+at first hand, as in the Hollow? And I was doing well. Not as I hope
+to do, but getting on. Margot was a merciless critic, but even she
+admitted that my last picture had the look, the spirit of the woods.
+That's what I want to do, what Mr. Dutton, also, approved; to bring
+glimpses of these solitudes back to the cities and the thousands who
+can never see them in any other way. Well--let it go. I can't stay and
+be a torment to anybody, and some time, in some other place, maybe----
+Ah!"
+
+What he had mistaken for the laughter of a loon was Pierre's halloo.
+He was coming back, then, from the mainland where he had been absent
+these past days. Adrian was thankful. There was nothing mysterious or
+perplexing about Pierre, whose rule of life was extremely simple.
+
+"Pierre first, second, and forever. After Pierre, if there was
+anything left, then--anybody, the nearest at hand;" would have
+expressed the situation; but his honest, unblushing selfishness was
+sometimes a relief.
+
+"One always knows just where to find Pierre," Margot had said.
+
+So Adrian's answering halloo was prompt, and turning about he watched
+the birch leaving the shadow of the forest and heading for himself. It
+was soon alongside and Ricord's excited voice was shouting his good
+news:
+
+"Run him up to seven hundred and fifty!"
+
+"But I thought there wasn't money enough anywhere to buy him!"
+
+Pierre cocked his dark head on one side and winked.
+
+"Madoc sick and Madoc well are different."
+
+"Oh! you wretch. Would you sell a sick moose and cheat the buyer?"
+
+"Would I lose such a pile of money for foolishness? I guess not."
+
+"But suppose, after you parted with him, he got well?"
+
+Again the woodlander grinned and winked.
+
+"Could you drive the king?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, that's all right. I buy him back, what you call trade. One do
+that many times, good enough. If----"
+
+Pierre was silent for some moments, during which Adrian had steadily
+paddled backward to the island, keeping time with the other boat, and
+without thinking what he was doing. But when he did remember, he
+turned to Pierre and asked:
+
+"Will you take me across the lake again?"
+
+"What for?"
+
+"No matter. I'll just leave Margot's canoe and you do it. There's time
+enough."
+
+"What'll you give me?"
+
+"Pshaw! What can I give you? Nothing."
+
+"That's all right. My mother, she wants the salt," and he kicked the
+sack of that valuable article, lying at his feet. "There. She's on the
+bank now and it's not she will let me out of sight again, this long
+time."
+
+"You'd go fast enough, for money."
+
+"Maybe not. When one has Angelique Ricord for mere---- Umm."
+
+But it was less for Pierre than for Adrian that Angelique was waiting,
+and her expression was kinder than common.
+
+"Carry that salt to my kitchen cupboard, son, and get to bed. No.
+You've no call to tarry. What the master's word is for his guest is
+nothin' to you."
+
+Pierre's curiosity was roused. Why had Adrian wanted to leave the
+island at nightfall, since there was neither hunting nor fishing to be
+done? Sport for sport's sake, that was forbidden. And what could be
+the message he was not to hear? He meant to learn, and lingered,
+busying himself uselessly in beaching the canoes afresh, after he had
+once carefully turned them bottom side upward; in brushing out
+imaginary dirt, readjusting his own clothing--a task he did not often
+bother with--and in general making himself a nuisance to his impatient
+parent.
+
+But, so long as he remained, she kept silence, till unable to hold
+back her rising anger she stole up behind him, unperceived, and
+administered a sounding box upon his sizable ears.
+
+"Would you? To the cupboard, miserable!" and Adrian could not repress
+a smile at the meekness with which the great woodlander submitted to
+the little woman's authority.
+
+"Xanthippe and Socrates!" he murmured, and Pierre heard him. So,
+grimacing at him from under the heavy sack, called back: "Fifty
+dollar. Tell her fifty dollar."
+
+"What he mean by fifty dollar?" demanded Angelique.
+
+"I suppose something about that 'show' business of his. It is his
+ambition, you know, and I must admit I believe he'd be a success at
+it."
+
+"Pouf! There is more better business than the 'showin'' one, of takin'
+God's beasties into the towns and lettin' the foolish people stare.
+The money comes that way is not good money."
+
+"Oh! yes. It's all right, fair Angelique. But what is the word for
+me?"
+
+"It is: that you come with me, at once, to the master. He will speak
+with you before he sleeps. Yes. And Adrian, lad!"
+
+"Well, Angelique?"
+
+"This is the truth. Remember. When the heart is sore tried the tongue
+is often sharp. There is death. That is a sorrow. God sends it. There
+are sorrows God does not send but the evil one. Death is but joy to
+them. What the master says, answer; and luck light upon your lips."
+
+The lad had never seen the old housekeeper so impressive nor so
+gentle. At the moment it seemed as if she almost liked him, though,
+despite the faithfulness with which she had obeyed her master's wishes
+and served him, he had never before suspected it.
+
+"Thank you, Angelique. I am troubled, too, and I will take care that I
+neither say nor resent anything harsh. More than that, I will go away.
+I have stayed too long, already, though I had hoped I was making
+myself useful. Is he in his own study?"
+
+"Yes, and the little maid is with him. No. There she comes, but she is
+not laughin', no. Oh! the broken glass. Scat, Meroude! Why leap upon
+one to scare the breath out, that way? Pst! 'Tis here that tame
+creatures grow wild and wild ones tame. Scat! I say."
+
+Margot was coming through the rooms, holding Reynard by the collar she
+made him wear whenever he was in the neighborhood of the hen-house,
+and Tom limped listlessly along upon her other side. There was trouble
+and perplexity in the girl's face, and Angelique made a great pretense
+of being angry with the cat, to hide that in her own.
+
+But Margot noticed neither her nor Adrian, and sitting down upon the
+threshold dropped her chin in her hands and fixed her eyes upon the
+darkening lake.
+
+"Why, mistress! The beast here at the cabin, and it nightfall? My poor
+fowls!"
+
+"He's leashed, you see, Angelique. And I'll lock the poultry up, if
+you like," observed Adrian. Anything to delay a little an interview
+from which he shrank with something very like that cowardice of which
+the girl had once accused him.
+
+[Illustration: HER PETS ON EITHER SIDE OF HER]
+
+The housekeeper's ready temper flamed, and she laid an ungentle touch
+upon the stranger's shoulder.
+
+"Go, boy. When Master Hugh commands, 'tis not for such as we to
+disobey."
+
+"All right. I'm going. And I'll remember."
+
+At the inner doorway he turned and looked back. Margot was still
+sitting, thoughtful and motionless, the firelight from the great
+hearth making a Rembrandt-like silhouette of her slight figure against
+the outer darkness and touching her wonderful hair to a flood of
+silver. Reynard and the eagle, the wild foresters her love had tamed,
+stood guard on either side. It was a picture that appealed to Adrian's
+artistic sense and he lingered a little, regarding its "effects," even
+considering what pigments would best convey them.
+
+"Adrian!"
+
+"Yes, Angelique. Yes."
+
+When the door shut behind him Angelique touched her darling's shining
+head, and the toil-stiffened fingers had for it almost a mother's
+tenderness.
+
+"Sweetheart, the bedtime."
+
+"I know. I'm going. Angelique, my uncle sent me from him to-night. It
+was the first time in all my life that I remember."
+
+"Maybe, little stupid, because you've never waited for that, before,
+but were quick enough to see whenever you were not wanted."
+
+"He---- There's something wrong and Adrian is the cause of it.
+I--Angelique, you tell me. Uncle did not hear, or reply, anyway. Where
+is my father buried?"
+
+Angelique was prepared and had her answer ready.
+
+"'Tis not for a servant to reveal what her master hides. No. All will
+come to you in good time. Tarry the master's will. But, that silly
+Pierre! What think you? Is it fifty dollar would be the price of the
+tame blue herons? Hey?"
+
+"No. Nor fifty times fifty. Pierre knows that. Love is more than
+money."
+
+"Sometimes, to some folks. Well, what would you? That son will
+be havin' even me, his old mother, in his 'show,' why not? As a
+cur'osity--the only livin' human bein' can make that ingrate mind.
+Yes. To bed, my child."
+
+Margot rose and housed her pets. This threat of Pierre's, that
+he would eventually carry off the "foresters" and exhibit their
+helplessness to staring crowds, always roused her fiercest
+indignation; and this result was just what Angelique wanted, at
+present, and she murmured her satisfaction:
+
+"Good. That bee will buzz in her ear till she sleeps, and so sound
+she'll hear no dip of the paddle, by and by. Here, Pierre, my son,
+you're wanted."
+
+"What for now? Do leave me be. I'm going to bed. I'm just wore out,
+trot-trottin' from Pontius to Pilate, lugging salt, and----" he
+finished by yawning most prodigiously.
+
+"Firs'-rate sign, that gapin'. Yes. Sign you're healthy and able to do
+all's needed. There's no bed for you this night. Come. Here. Take this
+basket to the beach. If your canoe needs pitchin', pitch it. There's
+the lantern. If one goes into the show business he learns right now
+to work and travel o' nights. Yes. Start. I'll follow and explain."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+DEPARTURE
+
+
+But Adrian need not have dreaded the interview to which his host had
+summoned him. Mr. Dutton's face was a little graver than usual but his
+manner was even more kind. He was a man to whom justice seemed the
+highest good, who had himself suffered most bitterly from injustice.
+He was forcing himself to be perfectly fair with the lad and it was
+even with a smile that he motioned toward an easy-chair opposite
+himself. The chair stood in the direct light of the lamp, but Adrian
+did not notice that.
+
+"Do not fear me, Adrian, though for a moment I forgot myself. For you
+personally--personally--I have only great good will. But---- Will you
+answer my questions, believing that it is a painful necessity which
+compels them?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"One word more. Beyond the fact, which you confided to Margot, that
+you were a runaway I know no details of your past life. I have wished
+not to know and have refrained from any inquiries. I must now break
+that silence. What--is your father's name?"
+
+As he spoke the man's hands gripped the arms of his chair more
+tightly, like one prepared for an unpleasant answer.
+
+"Malachi Wadislaw."
+
+The questioner waited a moment, during which he seemed to be thinking
+profoundly. Then he rallied his own judgment. It was an uncommon name,
+but there might be two men bearing it. That was not impossible.
+
+"Where does he live?"
+
+"Number --, Madison Avenue, New York."
+
+A longer silence than before, broken by a long drawn: "A-ah!" There
+might, indeed, be two men of one name, but not two residing at that
+once familiar locality.
+
+"Adrian, when you asked my niece that question about her father, did
+you--had you---- Tell me what was in your mind."
+
+The lad's face showed nothing but frank astonishment.
+
+"Why, nothing, sir, beyond an idle curiosity. And I'm no end sorry for
+my thoughtlessness. I've seen how tenderly you both watch her mother's
+grave and I wondered where her father's was. That was all. I had no
+business to have done it----"
+
+"It was natural. It was nothing wrong, in itself. But--unfortunately,
+it suggested to Margot what I have studiously kept from her. For
+reasons which I think best to keep to myself, it is impossible to run
+the risk of other questions which may rouse other speculations in her
+mind. I have been truly glad that she could for a time, at least, have
+the companionship of one nearer her own age than Angelique or me, but
+now----"
+
+He paused significantly, and Adrian hastened to complete the
+unfinished sentence.
+
+"Now it is time for her to return to her ordinary way of life. I
+understand you, of course. And I am going away at once. Indeed, I did
+start, not meaning to come back, but--I will--how can I do so, sir? If
+I could swim----"
+
+Mr. Dutton's drawn face softened into something like a smile; and
+again, most gently, he motioned the excited boy to resume his seat. As
+he did so, he opened a drawer of the table and produced a purse that
+seemed to be well filled.
+
+"Wait. There is no such haste, nor are you in such dire need as you
+seem to think. You have worked well and faithfully and relieved me of
+much hard labor that I have not, somehow, felt just equal to. I have
+kept an account for you and, if you will be good enough to see if it
+is right, I will hand you the amount due you."
+
+He pushed a paper toward Adrian who would not, at first, touch it.
+
+"You owe me nothing, sir, nor can I take anything. I thank you for
+your hospitality and some time----" he stopped, choked, and made a
+telling gesture. It said plainly enough that his pride was just then
+deeply humiliated but that he would have his revenge at some future
+day.
+
+"Sit down, lad. I do not wonder at your feeling, nor would you at
+mine if you knew all. Under other circumstances we should have been
+the best of friends. It is impossible for me to be more explicit,
+and it hurts my pride as much to bid you go as yours to be sent.
+Some time--but no matter. What we have in hand is to arrange for
+your departure as speedily and comfortably as possible. I would
+suggest----" but his words had the force of a command--"that Pierre
+convey you to the nearest town from which, by stage or railway, you
+can reach any further place you choose. If I were to offer advice, it
+would be to go home. Make your peace there; and then, if you desire a
+life in the woods, seek such with the consent and approval of those
+to whom your duty is due."
+
+Adrian said nothing at first; then remarked:
+
+"Pierre need not go so far. Across the lake, to the mainland is
+enough. I can travel on foot afterward, and I know more about the
+forest now than when I lost myself and you, or Margot, found me. I owe
+my life to you. I am sorry I have given you pain. Sorry for many
+things."
+
+"There are few who have not something to regret; for anything that has
+happened here no apology is necessary. As for saving life, that was by
+God's will. Now--to business. You will see that I have reckoned your
+wages the same as Pierre's: thirty dollars a month and 'found,' as the
+farmers say, though it has been much more difficult to find him than
+you. You have been here nearly three months and eighty dollars is
+yours."
+
+"Eighty dollars! Whew! I mean, impossible. In the first place I
+haven't earned it; in the second, I couldn't take it from--from
+you--if I had. How could a man take money from one who had saved his
+life?"
+
+"Easily, I hope, if he has common sense. You exaggerate the service we
+were able to do you, which we would have rendered to anybody. Your
+earnings will start you straight again. Take them, and oblige me by
+making no further objections."
+
+Despite his protests, which were honest, Adrian could not but be
+delighted at the thought of possessing so goodly a sum. It was the
+first money he had ever earned, therefore better than any other ever
+could be, and as he put it, in his own thoughts: "it changed him from
+a beggar to a prince." Yet he made a final protest, asking:
+
+"Have I really, really, and justly earned all this? Do you surely mean
+it?"
+
+"I am not in the habit of saying anything I do not mean. It is getting
+late, and if you are to go to-night, it would be better to start
+soon," answered Mr. Dutton, with a frown.
+
+"Beg pardon. But I'm always saying what I should not, or putting the
+right things backward. There are some affairs 'not mentioned in the
+bond': my artist's outfit, these clothes, boots, and other matters. I
+want to pay the cost of them. Indeed, I must. You must allow me, as
+you would any other man."
+
+The woodlander hesitated a moment as if he were considering. He would
+have preferred no return for anything, but again that effort to be
+wholly just influenced him.
+
+"For the clothing, if you so desire, certainly. Here, in this account
+book, is a price list of all such articles as I buy. We will deduct
+that much. But I hope, in consideration of the pleasure that your
+talent has given me, that you will accept the painting stuff I so
+gladly provided. If you choose, also, you may leave a small gift for
+Angelique. Come. Pride is commendable, but not always."
+
+"Very well. Thank you, then, for your gift. Now, the price list."
+
+It had been a gratification to Mr. Dutton that Adrian had never worn
+the suits of clothing which he had laid out ready for use, on that
+morning after his arrival at the island. The lad had preferred the
+rougher costume suited to the woods and still wore it.
+
+In a few moments the small business transactions were settled, and
+Adrian rose.
+
+"I would like to bid Margot good-bye. But, I suppose, she has gone to
+bed."
+
+"Yes. I will give her your message. There is always a pain in parting
+and you two have been much together. I would spare her as much as I
+can. Angelique has packed a basket of food and Pierre is on the beach
+with his canoe. He may go as far with you as you desire, and you must
+pay him nothing for his service. He is already paid, though his greed
+might make him despoil you, if he could. Good-bye. I wish you well."
+
+Mr. Dutton had also risen, and as he moved forward into the lamplight
+Adrian noticed how much altered for the worse was his physical
+bearing. The man seemed to have aged by many years and his fine head
+was now snow-white. He half extended his hand, in response to the
+lad's proffered clasp, then dropped it to his side. He hoped that the
+departing guest had not observed this inhospitable movement--but he
+had. Possibly, it helped him over an awkward moment, by touching his
+pride afresh.
+
+"Good-bye, sir, and again--thank you. For the present, that is all I
+can do. Yet I have heard it was not so big a world, after all, and my
+chance may come. I'll get my traps from my room, if you please, and
+one or two little drawings as souvenirs. I'll not be long."
+
+Fifteen minutes later Pierre was paddling vigorously toward the
+further side of the lake and Adrian was straining his eyes for the
+last glimpse of the beautiful island which even now, in his banishment
+from it, seemed his real and beloved home. It became a vague and
+shadowy outline, as silent as the stars that brooded over it; and
+again he marveled what the mystery might be which enshrouded it, and
+why he should be connected with it.
+
+"Now that I am no longer its guest, there is no dishonor in my finding
+out; and find out--I will!"
+
+"Hey?" asked Pierre, so suddenly, that Adrian jumped and nearly upset
+the boat. "Oh! I thought you said somethin'. Say, ain't this a go?
+What you done that make the master shut the door on you? I never knew
+him do it before. Hey?"
+
+"Nothing. Keep quiet. I don't feel like talking."
+
+"Pr-r-r-rp! Look a here, young fello'. Me and you's alone on this dead
+water and I can swim--you can't. I've got all I expect to get out the
+trip and I've no notion o' makin' it. Not 'less things go to my
+thinkin'. Now, I'll rest a spell. You paddle!"
+
+With that, he began to rock the frail craft violently and Adrian's
+attention was recalled to the necessity of saving his own life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+A DISCLOSURE
+
+
+As the sun rose, Margot came out of her own room, fresh from her
+plunge that had washed all drowsiness away, as the good sleep had also
+banished all perplexities. Happy at all times, she was most so at
+morning, when, to her nature-loving eyes, the world seemed to have
+been made anew and doubly beautiful. The gay little melodies she had
+picked up from Pierre, or Angelique--who had been a sweet singer in
+her day--and now again from Adrian, were always on her lips at such an
+hour, and were dear beyond expression to her uncle's ears.
+
+But this morning she seemed to be singing them to the empty air. There
+was nobody in the living room, nor in the "study-library," as the
+housekeeper called the room of books, nor even in the kitchen. That
+was oddest of all! For there, at least, should Angelique have been,
+frying, or stewing, or broiling, as the case might be. Yet the coffee
+stood simmering, at one corner of the hearth and a bowl of eggs waited
+ready for the omelet which Angelique could make to perfection.
+
+"Why, how still it is! As if everybody had gone away and left the
+island alone."
+
+She ran to the door and called: "Adrian!"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Pierre! Angelique! Where is everybody?"
+
+Then she saw Angelique coming down the slope and ran to meet her. With
+one hand the woman carried a brimming pail of milk and with the other
+dragged by his collar the reluctant form of Reynard, who appeared as
+guilty and subdued as if he had been born a slave not free. To make
+matters more difficult, Meroude was surreptitiously helping herself to
+a breakfast from the pail and thereby ruining its contents for other
+uses.
+
+"Oh! the plague of a life with such beasts! And him the worst o' they
+all. The ver' next time my Pierre goes cross-lake, that fox goes or I
+do! There's no room on the island for the two of us. No. Indeed no.
+The harm comes of takin' in folks and beasties and friendin' them 'at
+don't deserve it. What now, think you?"
+
+Margot had run the faster, as soon as she descried poor Reynard's
+abject state, and had taken him under her own protection, which
+immediately restored him to his natural pride and noble bearing.
+
+"I think nothing evil of my pet, believe that! See the beauty now!
+That's the difference between harsh words and loving ones. If you'd
+only treat the 'beasties' as well as you do me, Angelique dear, you'd
+have less cause for scolding. What I think now is--speckled rooster.
+Right?"
+
+"Aye. Dead as dead; and the feathers still stickin' to the villain's
+jaws. What's the life of such brutes to that o' good fowls? Pst!
+Meroude! Scat! Well, if it's milk you will, milk you shall!" and,
+turning angrily about, Snowfoot's mistress dashed the entire contents
+of her pail over the annoying cat.
+
+Margot laughed till the tears came. "Why, Angelique! only the other
+day, in that quaint old 'Book of Beauty' uncle has, I read how a Queen
+of Naples, and some noted Parisian beauties, used baths of milk for
+their complexions; but poor Meroude's a hopeless case, I fear."
+
+Angelique's countenance took on a grim expression. "Mistress Meroude's
+got a day's job to clean herself, the greedy. It's not her nose'll go
+in the pail another mornin'. No. No, indeed."
+
+"And it was so full. Yet that's the same Snowfoot who was to give us
+no more, because of the broken glass. Angelique, where's uncle?"
+
+"How should I tell? Am I set to spy the master's ins and outs?"
+
+"Funny Angelique! You're not set to do it, but you can usually tell
+them. And where's Adrian? I've called and called, but nobody answers.
+I can't guess where they all are. Even Pierre is out of sight, and
+he's mostly to be found at the kitchen door when meal time comes."
+
+"There, there, child. You can ask more questions than old Angelique
+can answer. But the breakfast. That's a good thought. So be. Whisk in
+and mix the batter cakes for the master's eatin'. 'Tis he, foolish
+man, finds they have better savor from Margot's fingers than mine.
+Simple one, with all his wisdom."
+
+"It's love gives them savor, sweet Angelique! and the desire to see me
+a proper housewife. I wonder why he cares about that, since you are
+here to do such things."
+
+"Ah! The 'I wonders!' and the 'Is its?' of a maid! They set the head
+awhirl. The batter cakes, my child. I see the master comin' down the
+hill this minute."
+
+Margot paused long enough to caress Tom, the eagle, who met her on the
+path, then sped indoors, leaving Reynard to his own devices and
+Angelique's not too tender mercies. But she put all her energy into
+the task assigned her and proudly placed a plate of her uncle's
+favorite dainty before him when he took his seat at table. Till then
+she had not noticed its altered arrangement, and even her guardian's
+coveted: "Well done, little housekeeper!" could not banish the sudden
+fear that assailed her.
+
+"Why, what does it mean? Where is Adrian? Where Pierre? Why are only
+dishes for three?"
+
+"Pst! my child! Hast been askin' questions in the sleep? Sure, you
+have ever since your eyes flew open. Say your grace and eat your meat,
+and let the master rest."
+
+"Yes, darling. Angelique is wise. Eat your breakfast as usual, and
+afterward I will tell you all--that you should know."
+
+"But, I cannot eat. It chokes me. It seems so awfully still and
+strange and empty. As I should think it might be, were somebody dead."
+
+Angelique's scant patience was exhausted. Not only was her loyal heart
+tried by her master's troubles, but she had had added labor to
+accomplish. During all that summer two strong and, at least one,
+willing lads had been at hand to do the various chores pertaining to
+all country homes, however isolated. That morning she had brought in
+her own supply of fire-wood, filled her buckets from the spring,
+attended the poultry, fed the oxen, milked Snowfoot, wrestled over the
+iniquity of Reynard and grieved at the untimely death of the speckled
+rooster: "When he would have made such a lovely fricasee, yes. Indeed,
+'twas a sinful waste!"
+
+Though none of these tasks were new or arduous to her, she had not
+performed them during the past weeks, save and except the care of her
+cow. That she had never entrusted to anybody, not even the master; and
+it was to spare him that she had done some of the things he meant to
+attend to later. Now she had reached her limit.
+
+"Angelique wants her breakfast, child. She has been long astir. After
+that the deluge!" quoted Mr. Dutton, with an attempt at lightness
+which did not agree with his real depression.
+
+Margot made heroic efforts to act as usual but they ended in failure,
+and as soon as might be her guardian pushed back his chair and she
+promptly did the same.
+
+"Now I can ask as many questions as I please, can't I? First, where
+are they?"
+
+"They have gone across the lake, southward, I suppose. Toward whatever
+place or town Adrian selects. He will not come back but Pierre will do
+so, after he has guided the other to some safe point beyond the woods.
+How soon I do not know, of course."
+
+"Gone! Without bidding me good-bye? Gone to stay? Oh! uncle, how could
+he? I know you didn't like him but I did. He was----"
+
+Margot dropped her face in her hands and sobbed bitterly. Then ashamed
+of her unaccustomed tears she ran out of the house and as far from it
+as she could. But even the blue herons could give her no amusement,
+though they stalked gravely up the river bank and posed beside her,
+where she lay prone and disconsolate in Harmony Hollow. Her squirrels
+saw and wondered, for she had no returning chatter for them, even when
+they chased one another over her prostrate person and playfully pulled
+at her long hair.
+
+"He was the only friend I ever had that was not old and wise in
+sorrow. It was true he seemed to bring a shadow with him and while he
+was here I sometimes wished he would go, or had never come; yet now
+that he has--oh! it's so awfully, awfully lonesome. Nobody to talk
+with about my dreams and fancies, nobody to talk nonsense, nobody to
+teach me any more songs--nobody but just old folks and animals! And he
+went, he went without a word or a single good-bye!"
+
+It was, indeed, Margot's first grief; and the fact that her late
+comrade could leave her so coolly, without even mentioning his plan,
+hurt her very deeply. But, after awhile, resentment at Adrian's
+seeming neglect almost banished her loneliness; and, sitting up, she
+stared at Xanthippe, poised on one leg before her, apparently asleep
+but really waiting for anything which might turn up in the shape of
+dainties.
+
+"Oh! you sweet vixen! but you needn't pose. There's no artist here now
+to sketch you, and I don't care, not very much, if there isn't. After
+all my trying to do him good, praising and blaming and petting, if he
+was impolite enough to go as he did---- Well, no matter!"
+
+While this indignation lasted she felt better, but as soon as she came
+once more in sight of the clearing and of her uncle finishing one of
+Adrian's uncompleted tasks, her loneliness returned with double force.
+It had almost the effect of bodily illness and she had no experience
+to guide her. With a fresh burst of tears she caught her guardian's
+hand and hid her face on his shoulder.
+
+"Oh! it's so desolate. So empty. Everything's so changed. Even the
+Hollow is different and the squirrels seem like strangers. If he had
+to go, why did he ever, ever come!"
+
+"Why, indeed!"
+
+Mr. Dutton was surprised and frightened by the intensity of her grief.
+If she could sorrow in this way for a brief friendship, what untold
+misery might not life have in store for her? There must have been some
+serious blunder in his training if she were no better fitted than this
+to face trouble; and for the first time it occurred to him that he
+should not have kept her from all companions of her own age.
+
+"Margot!"
+
+The sternness of his tone made her look up and calm herself.
+
+"Y-es, uncle."
+
+"This must stop. Adrian went by my invitation. Because I could no
+longer permit your association. Between his household and ours is a
+wrong beyond repair. He cannot help that he is his father's son, but
+being such he is an impossible friend for your father's daughter. I
+should have sent him away, at my very first suspicion of his identity,
+but--I want to be just. It has been the effort of my life to learn
+forgiveness. Until the last I would not allow myself even to believe
+who he was, but gave him the benefit of the chance that his name might
+be of another family. When I did know--there was no choice. He had to
+go."
+
+Margot watched his face, as he spoke, with a curious feeling that this
+was not the loved and loving uncle she had always known but a
+stranger. There were wrinkles and scars she had never noticed, a
+bitterness that made the voice an unfamiliar one, and a weariness in
+the droop of the figure leaning upon the hoe which suggested an aged
+and heart-broken man.
+
+Why, only yesterday, it seemed, Hugh Dutton was the very type of a
+stalwart woodlander, with the grace of a finished and untiring
+scholar, making the man unique. Now---- If Adrian had done this thing,
+if his mere presence had so altered her beloved guardian, then let
+Adrian go! Her arms went around the man's neck and her kisses showered
+upon his cheeks, his hands, even his bent white head.
+
+"Uncle, uncle! Don't look like that! Don't. He's gone and shall never
+come back. Everything's gone, hasn't it? Even that irreparable past,
+of which I'd never heard. Why, if I'd dreamed, do you suppose I'd even
+ever have spoken to him? No, indeed. Why you, the tip of your smallest
+finger, the smallest lock of your hair, is worth more than a thousand
+Adrians! I was sorry he'd treated me so rudely. But now I'm glad,
+glad, glad. I wouldn't listen to him now, not if he said good-bye
+forever and ever. I love you, uncle, best of all the world, and you
+love me. Let's be just as we were before any strangers came. Come,
+let's go out on the lake."
+
+He smiled at her extravagance and abruptness. The times when they had
+gone canoeing together had been their merriest, happiest times. It
+seemed to her that it needed only some such outing to restore the
+former conditions of their life.
+
+"Not to-day, dearest."
+
+"Why not? The potatoes won't hurt and it's so lovely."
+
+"There are other matters, more important than potatoes. I have put
+them off too long. Now--Margot, do you love me?"
+
+"Why--uncle!"
+
+"Because there is somebody whom you must love even more dearly. Your
+father."
+
+"My--father! My father? Of course; though he is dead."
+
+"No, Margot. He is still alive."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+CARRYING
+
+
+Pierre's ill-temper was short-lived, but his curiosity remained.
+However, when Adrian steadily refused to gratify it his interest
+returned to himself.
+
+"Say, I've a mind to go the whole way."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Wherever you're going. Nothin' to call me back."
+
+"Madoc?"
+
+"We might take him along."
+
+"Not if he's sick. That would be as cruel to him as troublesome to us.
+Besides, you need go no further than yonder shore."
+
+"Them's the woods you got lost in."
+
+"I know them better now."
+
+"Couldn't find your road to save your life."
+
+"I think I could. Besides, you will be wanted at the island. I don't
+think Mr. Dutton is a well man. With nobody but an old woman and a
+young girl he'll need somebody. You're not much good, still----"
+
+Pierre laughed. They had about reached the forest and he rested his
+paddle.
+
+"You hear me. I'm going to where you go. That was the master's word. I
+wouldn't dare not do it. If I did, my mother'd make me sorry. So
+that's settled."
+
+Adrian had doubts as to the truth of this statement of the islander's
+commands. He recalled the words: "as far as you desire." After all,
+this was not setting a time limit, and it was perfectly natural that
+anybody should like company through the wilderness. Why, it would be a
+wild, adventurous journey! the very sort of which he had dreamed
+before he had tasted the prosaic routine of the lumber-camp. He had
+his colors and brushes, the birch-bark which served so many forest
+purposes should be his canvas, they had food, and Pierre, at least,
+his gun and ammunition--no lad could have protested further.
+
+"All right. It will be a lark after my own heart. We can quit as soon
+as we're tired of it; and--look here. Mr. Dutton said you were paid to
+take me to the nearest town. How far is that? How long to get there?"
+
+"Oh! I don't know. Donovan's nighest. Might go in four days--might a
+week. Canada's closer, but you don't want to go north. South, he
+said."
+
+"Ye-es. I suppose so. Fact is, I don't care where I go nor when. I'm
+in no hurry. As long as the money and food hold out, I'm satisfied."
+
+"Speakin' of money. I couldn't afford to waste my time."
+
+Adrian laughed at this sudden change of front. It was Pierre who had
+proposed the long road, but at the mention of money had remembered
+prudence.
+
+"That's all right, too. It was of that I was thinking, you greedy
+fellow. What do guides get, here in the woods?"
+
+Pierre stepped ashore, carefully beached his canoe, and as carefully
+considered his reply before he made it. How much did this city lad
+know? Either at camp or on the island had he heard the just rates of
+such service?
+
+"Well--how much you got?"
+
+"I'm asking a question, not you."
+
+"About four dollars, likely."
+
+"Whew! not much. You can get the best of them for two. I'll give you a
+dollar a day when we're resting and one-fifty when we're traveling."
+
+Adrian was smiling in the darkness at his own sudden thrift. He had
+taken a leaf out of his comrade's own book, and beyond that, he almost
+loved his precious earnings, so soon as the thought came of parting
+with them. He instantly resolved to put aside a ten dollar piece to
+take the "mater," whenever he should see her. The rest he would use,
+of course, but not waste. He would paint such pictures up here as
+would make his old artist friends and the critics open their eyes. The
+very novelty of the material which should embody them would "take."
+Already, in imagination, he saw dozens of fascinating "bits" hung on
+the line at the old Academy, and felt the marvelous sums they brought
+swelling his pockets to bursting. He'd be the rage, the hit of the
+next season; and what pride he'd have in sending newspaper notices of
+himself to Peace Island! How Margot would open her blue eyes, and
+Angelique toss her hands, and the master slowly admit that there was
+genius where he had estimated only talent.
+
+"There's such a wide, wide difference in the two!" cried Adrian,
+aloud.
+
+"Hey? What?"
+
+The dreamer came back to reality, and to Pierre, demanding,
+
+"Make it one-seventy-five, and I'll do it."
+
+"Well. I will. Now, for to-night. Shall we camp right here or go
+further into the forest? In the woods I'm always ready for bed, and
+its later than usual now."
+
+"Here. I know the very rocks you got under in that storm. They'll do
+as good as a tent, and easier."
+
+Adrian, also, knew that spot and in a few moments both lads were
+asleep. They had not stopped even to build the fire that was customary
+in such quarters.
+
+Pierre was awake first, on the next morning, and Adrian slowly rose,
+stretching his cramped limbs and yawning widely.
+
+"Well, I must say that Angelique's good mattress beats rocks. You
+don't catch me doing that again. I guess I'll walk down to the water
+and have a last look at the island."
+
+"I guess you won't. You'll eat your breakfast right now. Then you'll
+fix that birch for the carry. If I do the heavy work you've got to do
+the light."
+
+"Sounds fair enough, but you're paid and I'm not."
+
+"It is fair."
+
+Adrian did not contest the point; the less readily because he saw that
+the fried chicken Angelique had given them was rapidly diminishing in
+quantity.
+
+"Think I'll fall to, myself. My, but I'm hungry! Wish I had a cup of
+coffee."
+
+"Can't waste time now. We'll have some to-night."
+
+"Did they give us some?"
+
+"Look in the pack."
+
+"After breakfast, I'll oblige you."
+
+Pierre grinned and helped himself to a wing.
+
+Adrian seized the tin basin which held the fowl and placed it behind
+himself. "Enough's as good as a feast. We shall be hungry again. See
+here. What kind of a bird was this? or birds? all legs and arms, no
+bodies. Freaks of nature. Eh? How many breast portions have you
+devoured?"
+
+"Three."
+
+"Oh! Then, travel or no travel, you get no wage this day. Understand.
+I'm commander of this expedition. I see to the commissariat. I'll
+overhaul the pack, and take account of stock."
+
+Pierre assisted at the task. Though he had been impatient to get away
+from that locality, still too dangerously near his mother's rule, he
+intended to keep an eye on everything. Paid or not paid, as Adrian
+fared so would he--only rather better.
+
+"Why, they must have thought we would be in the woods a long time.
+They were certainly generous."
+
+They had been, but Pierre considered that they might have been more
+so.
+
+"This was for both trips. Half is mine."
+
+"Nonsense. But--there. We're not going to squabble all the time, like
+children. And we both know exactly what we have to depend on. We must
+fish and shoot----"
+
+"How'll you do that? The only gun is mine."
+
+"It's part of the outfit. Let's see. A little good tent cloth--not big
+enough to cover any but good-natured folks--salt pork, beans, sugar,
+coffee, tea, flour, meal, dishes---- Hello! We're kings, Ricord!
+Monarchs of Maine."
+
+"Cut the splints."
+
+After all, it seemed to be Pierre who did the ordering, but Adrian had
+sense to see that he was the wiser of the two in woodcraft; even
+though he himself had made it a study during the last weeks. He seized
+the axe and attacked a cedar-tree, from which he had soon cut the
+binding strips he wanted. Then he laid the paddles in the boat,
+fastening them with rootlets to the three thwarts. He also fastened
+two broad bands of the pliable splints in such a way that when it was
+inverted, the weight of the canoe could be borne in part by the
+forehead and shoulders. He was ready almost as soon as Pierre had
+retied the pack, which was to be Adrian's burden.
+
+"All right! I'll swing her up. This 'carry' isn't a long one and the
+first thoroughfare is ten miles before we come to dead water. But
+it's up-stream that far and we'll have to warp up some. Part is fair,
+but more is rips."
+
+If Pierre thought to confound his mate by his woodland slang he was
+disappointed. Margot had been a good teacher and Adrian had been eager
+to learn what he had not already done from the loggers. Pierre had
+been puzzled by "commissariat" and "expedition" and felt that he had
+evened matters nicely.
+
+"Oh! I know. A thoroughfare is a river, and a dead water is a lake.
+And a carrier is--yourself!"
+
+To show his new skill he caught up the canoe and inverted it over his
+own head. He, also, had been calculating a bit, and realized that the
+birch was really the lighter burden. So he generously left the pack to
+his neighbor and started forward bravely.
+
+"All right, like you say. One little bit, then you change. Then, too,
+maybe I'm not ready."
+
+With a whistle and spring Pierre hoisted the pack to his shoulders,
+wound its straps around his body and started off through the forest at
+a sort of dog-trot pace, pausing neither for swamp nor fallen tree;
+and Adrian realized that if he were to keep his companion in sight he
+must travel equally fast.
+
+Alas! this was impossible. The birch which had seemed so light and
+romantic a "carry" became suddenly the heaviest and most difficult. He
+caught its ends on tree trunks and righting these blunders he stumbled
+over the rough way. The thongs that had seemed so smooth cut his
+forehead and burned into his chest, and putting pride in his pocket,
+he shouted:
+
+"Pierre! Pierre Ricord! Come back or you'll get no money!"
+
+It would have been a convincing argument had it been heard, but it
+was not. Pierre had already gone too far in advance. Yet at that
+moment a sound was borne on the breeze toward Adrian which effectually
+banished all thought of fatigue or of ill-treatment. A long-drawn,
+unmistakable cry that once heard no man with the hunter instinct ever
+forgets.
+
+"A moose! And Pierre has the gun!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+A DEAD WATER TRAGEDY
+
+
+But Pierre, also, had heard that distant "Ugh-u-u-ugh!" and instantly
+paused. His own anxiety was lest Adrian should not hear and be still.
+Fortunately, the wind was in their favor and the sensitive nostrils of
+the moose less apt to scent them. Having listened a moment, he dropped
+his pack so softly that, heavy as it was, it scarcely made the
+undergrowth crack. His gun was always loaded and now making it ready
+for prompt use, he started back toward his companion. The Indian in
+his nature came to the fore. His step was alert, precise, and light as
+that of any four-footed forester. When within sight of the other lad,
+listening and motionless, his eye brightened.
+
+"If he keeps that way, maybe---- Ah!"
+
+The moose called again, but further off. This was a disappointment,
+but they were on good ground for hunting and another chance would
+come. Meanwhile they would better make all haste to the thoroughfare.
+There would be the better place, and out in the canoe they'd have a
+wider range.
+
+"Here, you. Give me the boat. Did you hear it?"
+
+"Did I not? But you had the gun!"
+
+"Wouldn't have made any difference if you'd had it. Too far off. Let's
+get on."
+
+Adrian lifted the pack and dropped it in disgust. "I can't carry that
+load!"
+
+Pierre was also disgusted--by the other's ignorance and lack of
+endurance.
+
+"What you don't know about the woods beats all. Haven't you seen
+anybody pack things before? I'll show you. When there's big game handy
+is no time to quarrel. If a pack's too heavy, halve it. Watch and
+learn something."
+
+Pierre could be both swift and dexterous if he chose, and he rapidly
+unrolled and divided the contents of the cotton tent. Putting part
+into the blanket he retied the rest in the sheeting, and now neither
+bundle was a very severe tax.
+
+"Whew! What's the sense of that? It's the same weight. How does
+halving it help?"
+
+Pierre swung the canoe upon his head and directed:
+
+"Catch hold them straps. Carry one a few rods. Drop it. Come back
+after the other. Carry that a ways beyond the first. Drop it. Get
+number one. All time lap over, beyond, over, beyond. So."
+
+With a stick he illustrated on the ground, and wasting no further time
+nor speech, clasped his gun the tighter under his arm and trotted
+forward again.
+
+Adrian obeyed instructions, and though it seemed, at first, a waste to
+go back and forth along the carry as he had been directed, found that,
+in the end, he had accomplished his task with small fatigue or delay.
+
+"Another bit of woodcraft for my knowledge box. Useful elsewhere, too.
+Wish I could get through this country as fast as Pierre does. But
+he'll have to wait for me, anyway."
+
+For a time Adrian could easily trace the route of his guide by the
+bruises the canoe had given the leaves and undergrowth but after
+awhile the forest grew more open and this trail was lost. Then he
+stopped to consider. He had no intention of losing himself again.
+
+"We are aiming for the south. Good. All the big branches of these
+hemlocks point that way--so yonder's my road. Queer, too, how mossy
+the tree trunks are on the north sides. I've heard that you could drop
+an Indian anywhere in any forest and he'd travel to either point of
+the compass he desired with nothing to guide him but his instinct.
+Wish I were an Indian! Wish, rather, I had my own compass and good
+outfit that went over in my canoe. Hurrah! There's a glimmer of
+water. That's the thoroughfare. Now a dash for it!"
+
+Adrian was proud of his new skill in finding his own way through a
+trackless forest, but though he duly reached the stream he could not
+for a time see anything of Pierre. He did not wish to shout, lest the
+moose might be near and take fright, but at last he did give a faint
+halloo and an answer came at once. Then the boat shot out from behind
+a clump of alders and made down the river toward him.
+
+The current was swift and strong and there was considerable poling
+to be done before it touched the shore and Pierre stepped out.
+
+"I've been looking round. This is as good a place to camp to-night as
+we'll find. Leave the things here, and might as well get ready now.
+Then we can stay out all day and come back when we like."
+
+"But I thought we were to go on up the thoroughfare. Why stop here at
+all? Other camping places are easy to find."
+
+"Are they? My, you can ask questions. Good many things go to making
+right sort of camp. Dry ground, good water to drink, fire-wood,
+poles---- Oh! shucks! If you don't know, keep still and learn."
+
+This was excellent advice and Adrian was tired. He decided to trust
+to the other lad's common sense and larger experience, and having
+so decided, calmly stretched himself out upon the level bank of the
+stream and went to sleep.
+
+Pierre's temper rose still higher and after he had endured the sight
+of Adrian's indolence as long as possible he stepped to the river and
+dipped a bucket of water. Then he returned and quietly dashed it over
+the drowsy lad. The effect was all that Pierre desired.
+
+"What did you do that for?"
+
+"Take this axe and get to work. I've chopped long enough. It's my turn
+to rest. Or would be, only I'm after moose."
+
+Adrian realized that he had given cause for offense and laughed
+good-naturedly. His nap had rested him much more than his broken sleep
+of the night under the rocks, and the word "moose" had an inspiration
+all its own.
+
+"I've cut the fire-wood. You get poles for the tent. I'll get things
+ready for supper."
+
+Adrian laid his hand dramatically upon his stomach. "I've an inner
+conviction already that dinner precedes supper."
+
+"Cut, can't you?"
+
+"Cut, it is."
+
+In a few moments he had chopped down a few slender poles, and
+selecting two with forked branches he planted these upright on a
+little rise of the driest ground. Across the notches he laid a third
+pole, and over this he stretched their strip of sheeting. When this
+was pegged down at a convenient angle at the back and also secured at
+the ends, they had a very comfortable shelter from the dew and
+possible rain. The affair was open on one side and before this Pierre
+had heaped the wood for the fire when they should return after the
+day's hunt. Together they cut and spread the spruce and hemlock boughs
+for their bed, arranging them in overlapping rows, with an added
+quantity for pillows. Wrapped in their blankets, for even at midsummer
+these were not amiss, they hoped to sleep luxuriously.
+
+They stored their food in as safe a spot as possible, though Pierre
+said that nothing would molest it, unless it might be a hungry
+hedgehog, but Adrian preferred to take no risks. Then with knives
+freshly sharpened on the rocks, and the gun in hand, they cautiously
+stepped into the canoe and pushed off.
+
+"One should not jump into a birch. Easiest thing in the world to split
+the bottom," its owner had explained.
+
+Adrian had no desire to do anything that would hinder their success,
+therefore submitted to his guide's dictation with a meekness that
+would have amused Margot.
+
+She would not have been amused by their undertaking nor its but
+half-anticipated results. After a long and difficult warping-up the
+rapids, in which Adrian's skill at using the sharp-pointed pole that
+helped to keep the canoe off the rocks surprised Ricord, they reached
+a dead water, with low, rush-dotted banks.
+
+"Get her into that cove yonder, and keep still. I've brought some bark
+and'll make a horn."
+
+There, while they rested and listened, Pierre deftly rolled his strip
+of birch-bark into a horn of two feet in length, small at the mouth
+end but several inches wide at the other. He tied it with cedar thongs
+and putting it to his lips, uttered a call so like a cow-moose that
+Adrian wondered more and more.
+
+"Hmm. I thought I was pretty smart, myself; but I'll step down when
+you take the stand."
+
+"'Sh-h-h! Don't move. Don't speak. Don't breathe, if you can help it."
+
+Adrian became rigid, all his faculties merged in that one desire to
+lose no sound.
+
+Again Pierre gave the moose-call, and--hark! what was that? An
+answering cry, a far-away crashing of boughs, the onrush of some big
+creature, hastening to its mate.
+
+Noiselessly Pierre brought his gun into position, sighting one distant
+point from which he thought his prey would come. Adrian's body dripped
+with a cold sweat, his hands trembled, specks floated before his
+staring eyes, every nerve was tense, and, as Margot would have said,
+he was a-thrill "with murder," from head to foot! Oh! if the gun were
+his, and the shot!
+
+Another call, another cry, and a magnificent head came into view. With
+horns erect and quivering nostrils the monarch of that wilderness
+came, seeking love, and faced his enemies.
+
+"He's within range--shoot!" whispered Adrian.
+
+"Only anger him that way. 'Sh! When he turns----"
+
+"Bang! bang--bang!" in swift succession.
+
+The great horns tossed, the noble head came round again, then bent,
+wavered and disappeared. The tragedy was over.
+
+"I got him! I got him that time! Always shoot that way, never----"
+
+Pierre picked up his paddle and sent the canoe forward at a leap. When
+there came no responding movement from his companion he looked back
+over his shoulder. Adrian's face had gone white and the eagerness of
+his eyes had given place to unspeakable regret.
+
+"What's the matter? Sick?"
+
+"Yes. Why, it was murder! Margot was right."
+
+"Oh! shucks!"
+
+Whereupon Pierre pulled the faster toward the body of his victim.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+SHOOTING THE RAPIDS
+
+
+Three months earlier, if anybody had told Adrian he would ever be
+guilty of such "squeamishness" he would have laughed in derision. Now,
+all unconsciously to himself, the influence of his summer at Peace
+Island was upon him and it came to him with the force of a revelation
+that God had created the wild creatures of His forests for something
+nobler than to become the prey of man.
+
+"Oh! that grand fellow! his splendidly defiant, yet hopeless, facing
+of death! I wish we'd never met him!"
+
+"Well, of all foolishness! I thought you wanted nothing but the chance
+at him yourself."
+
+"So I did. Before I saw him. What if it had been Madoc?"
+
+"That's different."
+
+"The same. Might have been twin brothers. Maybe they were."
+
+"Couldn't have been. Paddle, won't you?"
+
+Adrian did so, but with a poor grace. He would now far rather have
+turned the canoe about toward camp, yet railed at himself for his
+sudden cowardice. He shrank from looking on the dead moose as only an
+hour before he had longed to do so.
+
+They were soon at the spot where the animal had disappeared and
+pushing the boat upon the reedy shore, Pierre plunged forward through
+the marsh. Adrian did not follow, till a triumphant shout reached him.
+Then he felt in his pocket and, finding a pencil with a bit of paper,
+made his own way more slowly to the side of his comrade, who, wildly
+excited, was examining and measuring his quarry. On a broad leaved
+rush he had marked off a hand's width and from this unit calculated
+that:
+
+"He's eight feet four from hoof to shoulder, and that betters the
+King by six inches. See. His horns spread nigh six feet. If he stood
+straight and held them up he'd be fifteen feet or nothing! They spread
+more'n six feet, and I tell you, he's a beauty!"
+
+"Yes. He's all of that. But of what use is his beauty now?"
+
+"Humph! Didn't know you was a girl!"
+
+Adrian did not answer. He was rapidly and skilfully sketching the
+prostrate animal, and studying it minutely. From his memory of it
+alive and the drawing he hoped to paint a tolerably lifelike portrait
+of the animal; and a fresh inspiration came to him. To those projected
+woodland pictures he would add glimpses of its wild denizens, and in
+such a way that the hearts of the beholders should be moved to pity,
+not to slaughter.
+
+But, already that sharpened knife of Pierre's was at work, defacing,
+mutilating.
+
+"Why do that, man?"
+
+"Why not? What ails you? What'd we hunt for?"
+
+"We don't need him for food. You cannot possibly carry those horns any
+distance on our trip, and you're not apt to come back just this same
+way. Let him lie. You've done him all the harm you should. Come on. Is
+this like him?" And Adrian showed his drawing.
+
+"Oh! it's like enough. If you don't relish my job--clear out. I can
+skin him alone."
+
+Adrian waited no second bidding, but strolled away to a distance and
+tried to think of other things than the butchering in progress. But at
+last Pierre whistled and he had to go back or else be left in the
+wilderness to fare alone as best he might. It was a ghastly sight. The
+great skin, splashed and wet with its owner's blood, the dismembered
+antlers, the slashed off nose--which such as Pierre considered a
+precious tid-bit, the naked carcass and the butcher's own uninviting
+state.
+
+"I declare, I can never get into the same boat with you and all that
+horror. Do leave it here. Do wash yourself--there's plenty of water,
+and let's be gone."
+
+Pierre did not notice the appeal. Though the lust of killing had died
+out of his eyes the lust of greed remained. Already he was estimating
+the value of the hide, cured or uncured, and the price those antlers
+would bring could he once get them to the proper market.
+
+"Why, I've heard that in some of the towns folks buy 'em to hang their
+hats on. Odd! Lend a hand."
+
+Reluctantly, Adrian did lift his portion of the heavy horns and helped
+carry them to the birch. He realized that the pluckiest way of putting
+this disagreeable spot behind him was by doing as he was asked. He was
+hopeless of influencing the other by any change in his own feelings
+and wisely kept silence.
+
+But they hunted no more that day, nor did they make any further
+progress on their journey. Pierre busied himself in erecting a rude
+frame upon which he stretched the moose skin to dry. He also prepared
+the antlers and built a sort of hut, of saplings and bark, where he
+could store his trophies till his return trip.
+
+"For I shall surely come back this same way. It's good hunting ground
+and moose feed in herds. Small herds, course, but two, three make a
+fellow rich. Eh?"
+
+Adrian said nothing. He occupied himself in what Pierre considered a
+silly fashion, sketching, studying "effects," and carefully cutting
+big pieces of the birch-bark that he meant to use for "canvas." To
+keep this flat during his travels was a rather difficult problem, but
+finally solved by cutting two slabs of cedar wood and placing the
+sheets of bark between these.
+
+Whereupon, Pierre laughed and assured the weary chopper that he had
+had his trouble for his pains.
+
+"What for you want to carry big lumber that way? Roll your bark.
+That's all right. When you want to use it put it in water. Easy.
+Queer how little you know about things."
+
+"All right. I was silly, sure enough. But thanks for your teaching.
+Maybe, if you were in my city I might show you a thing or two."
+
+Both lads were glad, however, when night came, and having cooked
+themselves a good supper and replenished their fire, they slept as
+only such healthy lads can sleep; to wake at sunrise, ready for fresh
+adventures, and with the tragedy of the previous day partly forgotten
+even by Adrian. Then, after a hearty breakfast, they resumed their
+trip.
+
+Nothing eventful occurred for some time after. No more moose appeared,
+and beyond winging a duck or two and fishing now and then, Pierre kept
+his hunting instincts down. In fact, he was just then too lazy to
+exert himself. He felt that he had labored beyond all reason during
+the past summer and needed a rest. Besides, were not his wages
+steadily going on? If Adrian was silly enough to paint and paint and
+paint--all day, this old tree and that mossy stump, he was not
+responsible for another man's stupidity. Not he. The food was still
+holding out, so let things take their course.
+
+Suddenly, however, Adrian realized that they were wasting time. He
+had made sketches on everything and anything he could find and had
+accumulated enough birch-bark to swamp the canoe, should they strike
+rough water; and far more than was comfortable for him to carry over
+any portage. So one morning he announced his intention of leaving the
+wilderness and getting back to civilization.
+
+"All right. I go with you. Show me the town, then I'll come back."
+
+"Well. As you please. Only I don't propose to pay you any longer than
+will take us, now by the shortest road, to Donovan's."
+
+"Time enough to borrow that trouble when you see it."
+
+But Pierre suggested that, as Adrian wished to learn everything
+possible about the woods, he should now take the guidance of affairs,
+and that whenever things went wrong he, Pierre, could point the way.
+He did this because, of late, he fancied that his young employer
+had taken a "too top-lofty" tone in addressing him; and, in truth,
+Adrian's day-dreams of coming fame and his own genius were making him
+feel vastly superior to the rough woodsman.
+
+They had paddled over dead water to a point where two streams touched
+it, and the question rose--which way?
+
+"That!" said Adrian, with decision, pointing to the broader and more
+southern of the two.
+
+"Good enough."
+
+For a moment the leader fancied there was a gleam of malice in
+his hireling's eye, but he considered it beneath his notice and
+calmly turned the canoe into the thoroughfare he had chosen. It was
+wonderfully smooth and delightful paddling. In all their trip they had
+not found so level a stream, and it was nothing but enjoyment of the
+scenery that Adrian felt, until it seemed to him that they had been
+moving a long time without arriving anywhere. "Haven't we?" he asked.
+
+"Oh! we'll get there soon, now."
+
+Presently things began to look familiar. There was one curiously
+shaped, lightning-riven pine, standing high above its fellows, that
+appeared like an old friend.
+
+"Why, what's this? Can there be two trees, exactly alike, within a
+half-day's rowing? I've certainly sketched that old landmark from
+every side, and---- Hello! yonder's my group of white-birches or I'm
+blind. How queer!"
+
+A few more sweeps and the remains of the camp they had that morning
+left were before them, and Pierre could no longer repress his glee.
+
+"Good guide, you! Trust a know-it-all for making mistakes."
+
+"What does it mean?" demanded Adrian, angrily.
+
+"Nothing. Only you picked out a run-about, a little branch of river,
+that wanders out of course and then comes home again. Begins and ends
+the same. Oh! you're wise, you are."
+
+"Would the other lead us right?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But it turns north. We're bound south."
+
+"That's no matter. Can't a river turn, same as runabouts?"
+
+"I give up. You guide. I'll stick to my brush."
+
+This restored affairs to the ground which Pierre considered proper;
+and having paused long enough to eat a lunch, they set out afresh. The
+new track they followed ascended steadily, and it proved a difficult
+stream to get up; but the ascent was accomplished without accident and
+then the surface of the land altered. Again they reached a point where
+two branches met and Pierre explained that the waters of one ran due
+north, but the other bent gradually toward the south and in a little
+while descended through one of the most dangerous "rips" he had ever
+seen.
+
+"Only saw them once, too. When I went as far as Donovan's with the
+master, year before last."
+
+"Didn't know he ever came so far from the island."
+
+"Why, he goes once every summer, or fall, as far as that New York of
+yours. Likely he'll be going soon again."
+
+"He does? Queer he never mentioned it."
+
+"Maybe. I've a notion, though, that the things he don't say are more
+important than what he does. Ever shoot a rip?"
+
+"No. I've tried and failed. That's how I happened to get lost and
+wandered to Dutton's."
+
+"He's the boss hand at it. Seems as if the danger fired him up. Makes
+him feel as I do when I hunt big game. He didn't need my help, only
+fetched me along to take back some truck. That's how he picked me out
+to show you. He knew I knew----"
+
+"And I wish I knew--lots of things!"
+
+"One of 'em might be that round that next turn comes the first dip.
+Then, look out."
+
+The stream was descending very perceptibly; and they needed no
+paddling to keep them moving. But they did require to be incessantly
+on the watch to guard against the rocks which obstructed the current
+and which threatened the safety of their frail craft.
+
+"You keep an eye on me and one on the channel. It'll take a clear head
+to carry us through, and no fooling."
+
+Adrian did not answer. He had no thought for anything just then but
+the menace of those jagged points which seemed to reach toward them as
+if to destroy.
+
+Nor did Pierre speak again. Far better even than his silent companion
+could he estimate the perils which beset them. Life itself was the
+price which they would pay for a moment's carelessness; but a cool
+head, a clear eye, and a steady wrist--these meant safety and the
+proud record of a dangerous passage wisely made. A man who could shoot
+those rapids was a guide who might, indeed, some time demand the high
+wages at which Adrian had jeered.
+
+Suddenly, the channel seemed barred by two opposing bowlders, whose
+points lapped each other. In reality, there was a way between them, by
+the shortest of curves and of but little more than the canoe's width.
+Pierre saw and measured the distance skilfully, but he had not counted
+upon the opposing force of the water that rushed against them.
+
+"Look--out! take----"
+
+Behind the right-hand rock seethed a mighty whirlpool where the river
+speeding downward was caught and tossed back upon itself, around and
+around, mad to escape yet bound by its own power.
+
+Into this vortex the canoe was hurled; to be instantly overturned and
+dashed to pieces on the rock.
+
+On its first circuit of the pool Adrian leaped and landed upon the
+slippery bowlder--breathless, but alive! His hand still clasped the
+pole he had been using to steer with, and Pierre----? He had almost
+disappeared within the whirling water, that tossed him like a feather.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+SCIENCE AND SUPERSTITION
+
+
+For an instant Adrian closed his eyes that he might not see the
+inevitable end. But--was it inevitable? At the logging camp he had
+heard of just such accidents as this and not all of them were fatal.
+The water in its whirling sometimes tossed that which it had caught
+outward to safety.
+
+He flung himself prone and extended the pole. Pierre's body was making
+another circuit of that horrible pit and when--if--should it---- The
+drowning boy's head was under the current, but his legs swung round
+upon its surface, faster and faster, as they drew nearer the centre.
+
+Then--a marvel! The long pole was thrust under the invisible arms,
+which closed upon it as a vice.
+
+"Hold! Hold! I'll pull you out!"
+
+But for the hard labor of the past few weeks Adrian's muscles could
+not have stood the strain. Yet they did, and as he drew the nearly
+senseless Pierre upon the rock beside himself his soul went up in such
+glad thanksgiving as he had never known, or might know again. A life
+saved. That was worth all things.
+
+For an hour they lay there, resting, recovering; then Pierre, himself,
+stood up to see what chance there was for a fuller deliverance. He was
+a very sober and altered Pierre, and his drenched clothing added to
+the forlornness of his appearance.
+
+"Nothing left but--us. Came nigh bein' only you. Say, Adrian, I shan't
+forget it."
+
+"How are we going to get ashore?"
+
+"'Tisn't much harder'n Margot's stepping-stones. Done them times
+enough."
+
+Again Adrian was grateful for his forest experience, but he asked with
+some anxiety:
+
+"Suppose you are strong enough to do it?"
+
+"Isn't any supposin' about it. Got to. Might as well died in the pool
+as starve on this rock."
+
+Adrian didn't see that there was much better than starvation before
+them even if they did reach shore, but he kept his fear to himself.
+Besides, it was not probable that they had been saved from the flood
+to perish in the forest. They would better look at the bright side of
+the situation, if they hoped to find such.
+
+"I can jump them."
+
+"So can I."
+
+"Don't let go that pole. I mean to keep that as long as I live--'less
+you want it yourself. If you do----"
+
+"No, Pierre, it belongs to you, and doubly now. Which should go
+first--you or I?"
+
+"Draw lots. If that one falls in, the other must fish him out. Only we
+won't try it on this side, by the pool."
+
+They carefully surveyed the crossing, almost as dangerous an affair as
+shooting the rapids had been. Yet, as Pierre had said, they "had to."
+
+Adrian picked a bit of floating weed that had swept within his reach
+and broke it into unequal portions. The shortest bit fell to him and
+with as cheerful a "here goes!" as he could muster he sprang for
+the next stone. He made it; more easily than he had hoped, and saw
+that his best chance lay in looking straight ahead to the next
+landing-point--and the next--never down at the swirling river.
+
+"Landed! Come!"
+
+Pierre was heavier but more practiced than his mate, and in a few
+seconds the two stood together on the shore, regarding the ruins of
+their boat and thinking of what they would not have for supper.
+
+All at once Pierre's eye brightened.
+
+"Say! there's been a camp here. Not so long ago, either. See that
+barrel in the brush? There's an old birch shed yonder. Hurrah!"
+
+They did not linger, though Adrian kept hoping that something from
+their lost outfit might be tossed outward toward them, even as Pierre
+had been; but nothing came in sight and he reached the dilapidated
+shed only a few feet behind the other.
+
+"There's a bed left still, but not such a soft one. And there's pork
+in that barrel. Wonder the hedgehogs haven't found it."
+
+But as Pierre thrust his nose into the depths of the cask he
+understood the reason of its safety.
+
+"Whew! Even a porkypine wouldn't touch that! Never mind. Reckon our
+boots'll need greasing after that ducking, or mine will, and it'll
+answer. Anything under the shed?"
+
+"Don't see anything. Wait. Yes, I do. A canvas bag hung up high. Must
+have been forgotten when the campers left, for they took everything
+else, clean sweep. Hurrah! It's beans!"
+
+"Good. Beans are good fodder for hungry cattle."
+
+"How can you eat such hard things? Should think they'd been
+resurrected from the Pyramids."
+
+"Well, I don't know 'Pyramids,' but I do know beans, and how to cook
+them. Fall to. Let's get a fire. I'm nearly frozen."
+
+"Fire? Can you make one?"
+
+"I can try and---- I've got to. When needs must, you know."
+
+Adrian hastily collected some dry twigs and decaying chips and heaped
+them in the sunniest place, but for this was promptly reprimanded by
+the shivering Pierre.
+
+"Don't you know anything at all? Wood won't light, nor burn after 'tis
+lighted, in the sunshine. Stick up something to shade the stuff,
+whilst----"
+
+He illustrated what he did not further say, by carefully selecting
+some hard stones and briskly rubbing them together. A faint spark
+resulted and a thistle-down caught the spark. To the thistle-down he
+held a dried grass blade and another. By this small beginning they
+had soon a tiny blaze and very soon a comforting fire.
+
+When they were partially dried and rested, said Pierre:
+
+"Now, fetch on your beans. While they're cooking, we'll take account
+of what is left."
+
+Adrian brought the bag, refraining from any questions this time. He
+was wondering and watchful. Pierre's misadventures were developing
+unsuspected resources and the spirits of both lads rose again to the
+normal.
+
+"You're so fond of splitting birch for pictures, split me some now for
+a bucket, while I sharpen this knife again. Lucky for me my pocket
+buttoned, else it would have gone to the bottom of that pool. Got
+yours?"
+
+"Yes. I didn't fall in, you know."
+
+"Then I don't ask odds of anybody. I'd rather have a good axe, but
+when I can't get my rather I take the next best thing."
+
+Adrian procured the strips of birch, which grows so plentifully to
+hand in all that woodland, and when Pierre had trimmed it into the
+desired shape he deftly rolled it and tied it with stout rootlets, and
+behold! there was a shapely sort of kettle, with a twig for a handle.
+But of what use it might be the city lad had yet to learn.
+
+Pierre filled the affair with water and put into it a good handful of
+the beans. Then he fixed a crotched stick over his fire and hung the
+birch kettle upon it.
+
+"Oh! don't waste them. I know. I saw Angelique soak them, as they did
+at camp. I know, now. If we can't cook them we can make them swell up
+in water, and starving men can exist on such food till they reach a
+settlement. Of course we'll start as soon as you're all right."
+
+"We'll start when we're ready. That's after we've had something to eat
+and have made our new canoe. Never struck a spot where there was
+likelier birches. 'Twon't be the first one I've built or seen built.
+Say. Seems as if that God that Margot is always saying takes care of
+folks must have had a hand in this. Doesn't it?"
+
+"Yes. It does," answered Adrian, reverently. Surely, Pierre was a
+changed and better lad.
+
+Then his eyes rested on the wooden dinner-pot, and to his astonishment
+it was not burning but hung steadily in its place and the water in it
+was already beginning to simmer. Above the water line the bark
+shrivelled and scorched slightly, but Pierre looked out for this and
+with a scoop made from a leaf replenished the water as it steamed
+away. The beans, too, were swelling and gave every promise of
+cooking--in due course of time. Meanwhile, the cook rolled himself
+over and about in the warmth of the fire till his clothes were dry and
+all the cold had left his body. Also, he had observed Adrian's
+surprise with a pardonable pride.
+
+"Lose an Indian in the woods and he's as rich as a lord. It's the
+Indian in me coming out now."
+
+"It's an extra sense. Divination, instinct, something better than
+education."
+
+"What the master calls 'woodcraft.' Yes. Wonder how he is, and all of
+them. Say. What do you think I thought about when I was whirling round
+that pool, before I didn't think of anything?"
+
+"Your sins, I suppose. That's what I've heard comes to a drowning
+man."
+
+"Shucks! Saw the mere's face when she broke that glass! Fact. Though I
+wasn't there at the time. And one thing more: saw that ridiculous
+Xanthippe, looking like she'd never done a thing but warble. Oh! my!
+How I do wish Margot'd sell her."
+
+"Shall I help you get birch for the canoe now? I begin to believe you
+can do even that, you are so clever."
+
+This praise was sweet to Pierre's vain ears and had the result which
+Adrian desired, of diverting the talk from their island friends. In
+their present situation, hopeful as the other pretended to find it, he
+felt it best for his own peace of mind not to recall loved and absent
+faces.
+
+They went to work with a will, and will it was that helped them; else
+with the poor tools at hand they had never accomplished their
+undertaking. Indeed, it was a labor of considerable time. Not only was
+that first meal of boiled beans cooked and eaten, but several more of
+the same sort followed. To vary these, Pierre baked some, in the same
+method as he had boiled them, or else in the ashes of their fire. He
+even fashioned a sort of hook from a coat button and with cedar roots
+for a line, caught a fish now and then. But they craved the seasoning
+of salt, and even the dessert of blue-berries which nature provided
+them could not satisfy this longing, which grew almost intolerable to
+Adrian's civilized palate.
+
+"Queer, isn't it? When I was at that lumber camp I nearly died because
+all the meat, or nearly all, was so salt. Got so I couldn't eat
+anything, hardly. Now, just because I haven't salt I can't eat,
+either."
+
+"Indians not that way. Indians eat one thing same's another. Indian
+just wants to live, don't care about the rest. Indian never eats too
+much. I'm all Indian now."
+
+Adrian opened his eyes to their widest, then threw himself back and
+laughed till the tears came.
+
+"Pierre, Pierre! Would you had been 'all Indian' when you tackled
+Angelique's fried chicken! Umm! I can taste it now!"
+
+But at length the new canoe was ready. They had put as few ribs into
+it as would suffice to hold it in shape and Pierre had carefully sewn
+it with the roots of the black cedar, which serves the woodsman for so
+many purposes, where thread or twine is needed. They had made a paddle
+and a pole as well as they could with their knives, and having nothing
+to pack except themselves and their small remnant of beans, made their
+last camp-fire at that spot and lay down to sleep.
+
+But the dreams of both were troubled; and in the night Adrian rose and
+went to add wood to the fire. It had died down to coals, but his
+attention was caught by a ring of white light upon the ashes, wholly
+distinct from the red embers.
+
+"What's that?"
+
+In a moment he had answered his own question. It was the
+phosphorescent glow from the inner bark of a half burned log,
+and further away he saw another portion of the same log making a
+ghostly radiance on the surrounding ground.
+
+"Oh! I wouldn't have missed that for anything. Mr. Dutton told me of
+beautiful sights he had witnessed and of the strange will-o'-the-wisps
+that abound in the forest. I'll gather some of the chips."
+
+He did so, and they made a fairy-like radiance over his palm; but
+while he was intently studying them, he felt his hand rudely knocked
+up, so that the bits of wood flew out of it.
+
+"Pierre! Stop that!"
+
+"Don't you know what that is? A warning--a sign--an omen. Oh! if I had
+never come upon this trip!"
+
+"You foolish fellow. Just as I thought you were beginning to get
+sense. Nothing in the world but decayed bark and chemical----"
+
+Pierre stopped his ears.
+
+"I was dreaming of the mere. She came with her apron to her eyes and
+her clothes in tatters. She was scolding----"
+
+"Perfectly natural."
+
+"And begging me----"
+
+"Not to eat so many half-baked beans for supper."
+
+"There's something wrong at the island. I saw the cabin all dark. I
+saw Margot's eyes red with weeping."
+
+"No doubt Tom has been into fresh mischief and your mother has
+punished him."
+
+Pierre ignored these flippant interruptions, but rehearsed his dismal
+visions till Adrian lost patience and pushed him aside.
+
+"Go. Bring an armful of fresh wood; some that isn't phosphorescent, if
+you prefer. That'll wake you up and drive the megrims out of your
+mind."
+
+"'Tis neither of them things. 'Tis a warning. They were all painted
+with black, and all the Hollow creatures were painted, too. 'Tis a
+warning. I shall see death before I am----"
+
+Even while he maundered on in this strain he was unconsciously obeying
+the command to fetch wood, and moved toward a pile left ready. Now, in
+raking this together, Adrian had, also, swept that spot of ground
+clean and exposed; and what neither had observed in the twilight was
+plainly revealed by the glow and shadows cast by the fire.
+
+This was a low, carefully made mound that, in shape and significance,
+could be confounded with no other sort of mound, wherever met. Both
+recognized it at once, and even upon Adrian the shock was painful;
+but its effect upon superstitious Pierre was far greater. With a
+shriek that startled the silence of the forest he flung himself
+headlong.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+DIVERGING ROADS
+
+
+"Get up, Pierre. You should be ashamed of yourself!"
+
+It needed a strong and firm grasp to force the terrified lad to his
+feet and even when he, at last, stood up he shivered like an aspen.
+
+"A grave!"
+
+"Certainly. A grave. But neither yours nor mine. Only that of some
+poor fellow who has died in the wilderness. I'm sorry I piled the
+brush upon it, yet glad we discovered it in the end."
+
+"Gla-a-ad!" gasped the other.
+
+"Yes. Of course. I mean to cover it with fresh sods and plant some of
+those purple orchids at its head. I'll cut a cedar headstone, too, and
+mark it so that nobody else shall desecrate it as we have done."
+
+"You mustn't touch it! It's nobody's--only a warning."
+
+"A warning, surely; that we must take great care lest a like fate come
+on us; but somebody lies under that mound and I pity him. Most
+probable that he lost his life in that very whirlpool which wrecked
+us. Twice I've been upset and lost all my belongings, but escaped
+safe. I hope I'll not run the same chance again. Come. Lie down again,
+and go to sleep."
+
+"Couldn't sleep; to try in such a haunted place would be to be
+'spelled'----"
+
+"Pierre Ricord! For a fellow that's so smart at some things you are
+the biggest dunce I know, in others. Haven't we slept like lords ever
+since we struck this camp? I'm going to make my bed up again and turn
+in. I advise you to do the same."
+
+Adrian tossed the branches aside, then rearranged them, lapping the
+soft ends over the hard ones in an orderly row which would have
+pleased a housewife. Thus freshened his odorous mattress was as good
+as new, and stretching himself upon it he went to sleep immediately.
+
+Pierre fully intended to keep awake; but fatigue and loneliness
+prevailed, and five minutes later he had crept close to Adrian's side.
+
+The sunshine on his face, and the sound of a knife cutting wood awoke
+him; and there was Adrian whittling away at a broad slab of cedar,
+smiling and jeering, and in the best of spirits, despite his rather
+solemn occupation.
+
+"For a fellow who wouldn't sleep, you've done pretty well. See. I've
+caught a fish and set it cooking. I've picked a pile of berries, and
+have nearly finished this headstone. Added another accomplishment to
+my many--monument maker. But I'm wrong to laugh over that, though the
+poor unknown to whom it belongs would be grateful to me, I've no
+doubt. Lend a hand, will you?"
+
+But nothing would induce Pierre to engage in any such business. Nor
+would he touch his breakfast while Adrian's knife was busy. He sat
+apart, looking anywhere rather than toward his mate, and talking over
+his shoulder to him in a strangely subdued voice.
+
+"Adrian!"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Most done?"
+
+"Nearly."
+
+"What you going to put on it?"
+
+"I've been wondering. Think this: 'To the Memory of My Unknown
+Brother.'"
+
+"Wh-a-a-t!"
+
+Adrian repeated the inscription.
+
+"He was no kin to you."
+
+"We are all kin. It's all one world, God's world. All the people and
+all these forests, and the creatures in them--I tell you I've never
+heard a sermon that touched me as the sight of this grave in the
+wilderness has touched me. I mean to be a better, kinder man, because
+of it. Margot was right, none of us has a right to his own self.
+She told me often that I should go home to my own folks and make
+everything right with them; then, if I could, come back and live in
+the woods, somewhere. 'If I felt I must.' But I don't feel that way
+now. I want to get back and go to work. I want to live so that when I
+die--like that poor chap, yonder,--somebody will have been the better
+for my life. Pshaw! Why do I talk to you like this? Anyway, I'll set
+this slab in place, and then----"
+
+Pierre rose and still without looking Adrian's way, pushed the new
+canoe into the water. He had carefully pitched it, on the day before,
+with a mixture of the old pork grease and gum from the trees, so that
+there need be no delay at starting.
+
+Adrian finished his work, lettered the slab with a coal from the
+fire, and re-watered the wild flowers he had already planted.
+
+"Aren't you going to eat breakfast first?"
+
+"Not in a graveyard," answered Pierre, with a solemnity that checked
+Adrian's desire to smile.
+
+A last reverent attention, a final clearing of all rubbish from the
+spot, and he, too, stepped into the canoe and picked up his paddle.
+They had passed the rapids and reached a smooth stretch of the river,
+where they had camped, and now pulled steadily and easily away,
+once more upon their journey south. But not till they had put a
+considerable distance between themselves and that woodland grave,
+would Pierre consent to stop and eat the food that Adrian had
+prepared. Even then, he restricted the amount to be consumed,
+remarking with doleful conviction:
+
+"We're going to be starved before we reach Donovan's. The 'food stick'
+burnt off and dropped into the fire, last night."
+
+Adrian remembered that his mate had spoken of it at the time, when by
+some carelessness, they had not secured the crotched sapling on which
+they hung their birch kettle.
+
+"Oh! you simple thing. Why will you go through life tormenting
+yourself with such nonsense? Come. Eat your breakfast. We're going
+straight to Donovan's as fast as we can. I've done with the woods
+for a time. So should you be done. You're needed at the island. Not
+because of any dreams but because the more I recall of Mr. Dutton's
+appearance the surer I am that he is a sick man. You'll go back,
+won't you?"
+
+"Yes. I'm going back. Not because you ask me, though."
+
+"I don't care why--only go."
+
+"I'm not going into the show business."
+
+Adrian smiled. "Of course you're not. You'll never have money enough.
+It would cost lots."
+
+"'Tisn't that. 'Twas the dream. That was sent me. All them animals in
+black paint, and the blue herons without any heads, and---- My mother
+came for me, last night."
+
+"I heartily wish you could go to her this minute! She's superstitious
+enough, in all conscience, yet she has the happy faculty of keeping
+her lugubrious son in subjection."
+
+Whenever Pierre became particularly depressing the other would rattle
+off as many of the longest words as occurred to him. They had the
+effect of diverting his comrade's thoughts.
+
+Then they pulled on again, nor did anything disastrous happen to
+further hinder their progress. The food did not give out, for they
+lived mostly upon berries, having neither time nor desire to stop and
+cook their remnant of beans. When they were especially tired Pierre
+lighted a fire and made a bucket of hemlock tea, but Adrian found cold
+water preferable to this decoction; and, in fact, they were much
+nearer Donovan's, that first settlement in the wilderness, than even
+Pierre had suspected.
+
+Their last portage was made--an easy one, there being nothing but
+themselves and the canoe to carry--and they came to a big dead water
+where they had looked to find another running stream; but had no
+sooner sighted it than their ears were greeted by the laughter of
+loons, which threw up their legs and dived beneath the surface in that
+absurd manner which Adrian always found amusing.
+
+"Bad luck, again!" cried Pierre, instantly, "never hear a loon
+but----"
+
+"But you see a house! Look, look! Donovan's, or somebody's, no matter
+whose! A house, a house!"
+
+There, indeed, it lay; a goodly farmstead, with its substantial
+cabins, its outbuildings, its groups of cattle on the cleared land,
+and--yes, yes, its moving human beings, and what seemed oddest still,
+its teams of horses.
+
+Even Pierre was silent, and tears sprang to the eyes of both lads as
+they gazed. Until that moment neither had fully realized how lonely
+and desolate had been their situation.
+
+"Now for it! It's a biggish lake and we're pretty tired! But that
+means rest, plenty to eat, people--everything."
+
+Their rudely built canoe was almost useless when they beached it at
+last on Donovan's wharf, and their own strength was spent. But it was
+a hospitable household to which they had come, and one quite used to
+welcoming wanderers from the forest. They were fed and clothed and
+bedded, without question, but, when a long sleep had set them both
+right, tongues wagged and plans were settled with amazing promptness.
+
+For there were other guests at the farm; a party of prospectors, going
+north into the woods to locate timber for the next season's cutting.
+These would be glad of Pierre's company and help, and would pay him
+"the going wages." But they would not return by the route he had come,
+though by leaving theirs at a point well north, he could easily make
+his way back to the island.
+
+"So you shot the poor moose for nothing. You cannot even have his
+horns!" said Adrian reproachfully. "Well, as soon as I can vote, I
+mean to use all my influence to stop this murder in the forest."
+
+The strangers smiled and shrugged their shoulders. "We're after game
+ourselves, as well as timber, but legislation is already in progress
+to stop the indiscriminate slaughter of the fast disappearing moose
+and caribou. Five hundred dollars is the fine to be imposed for any
+infringement of the law, once passed."
+
+Pierre's jaw dropped. He was so impressed by the long words and the
+mention of that, to him, enormous sum, that he was rendered speechless
+for a longer time than Adrian ever remembered. But, if he said
+nothing, he reflected sadly upon the magnificent antlers he should see
+no more.
+
+Adrian's affairs were also, speedily and satisfactorily arranged.
+Farmer Donovan would willingly take him to the nearest stage route;
+thence to a railway would be easy journeying; and by steam he could
+travel swiftly, indeed, to that distant home which he now so longed to
+see.
+
+The parting of the lads was brief, but not without emotion. Two people
+cannot go through their experiences and dangers, to remain indifferent
+to each other. In both their hearts was now the kindliest feeling and
+the sincere hope that they should meet again. Pierre departed first
+and looked back many times at the tall, graceful figure of his
+comrade; then the trees intervened and the forest had again swallowed
+him into its familiar depths.
+
+Then Adrian, also, stepped upon the waiting buck-board and was driven
+over the rough road in the opposite direction.
+
+Three days later, with nothing in his pocket but his treasured knife,
+a roll of birch-bark, and the ten-dollar piece which, through all his
+adventures, he had worn pinned to his inner clothing, "a make-piece
+offering" to his mother he reached the brown stone steps to his
+father's city mansion.
+
+There, for the first time, he hesitated. All the bitterness with which
+he had descended those steps, banished in disgrace, was keenly
+remembered.
+
+"Can I, shall I, dare I go up and ring that bell?"
+
+A vision floated before him. Margot's earnest face and tear-dimmed
+eyes. Her lips speaking:
+
+"If I had father or mother anywhere--nothing should ever make me leave
+them. I would bear everything--but I would be true to them."
+
+An instant later a peal rang through that silent house, such as it had
+not echoed in many a day. What would be the answer to it?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+IN THE HOUR OF DARKNESS
+
+
+"No sign yet?"
+
+"No sign." Margot's tone was almost hopeless. Day after day, many
+times each day, she had climbed the pine-tree flagstaff and peered
+into the distance. Not once had anything been visible, save that wide
+stretch of forest and the shining lake.
+
+"Suppose you cross again, to old Joe's. He might be back by this time.
+I'll fix you a bite of dinner, and you better. Maybe----"
+
+The girl shook her head and clasped her arms about old Angelique's
+neck. Then the long repressed grief burst forth in dry sobs that shook
+them both, and pierced the housekeeper's faithful heart with a pain
+beyond endurance.
+
+"Pst! Pouf! Hush, sweetheart, hush! 'Tis nought. A few days more and
+the master will be well. A few days more and Pierre will come---- Ah!
+but I had my hands about his ears this minute! That would teach him,
+yes, to turn his back on duty, him. The ingrate! Well, what the Lord
+sends the body must bear."
+
+Margot lifted her head, shook back her hair, and smiled wanly. The
+veriest ghost of her old smile, it was, yet even such a delight to the
+other's eyes.
+
+"Good. That's right. Rouse up. There's a wing of a fowl in the
+cupboard, left from the master's broth----"
+
+"Angelique, he didn't touch it, to-day. Not even touch it."
+
+"'Tis nought. When the fever is on the appetite is gone. Will be all
+right once that is over."
+
+"But, will it ever be over? Day after day, just the same. Always that
+tossing to and fro, the queer, jumbled talk, the growing thinner--all
+of the dreadful signs of how he suffers. Angelique, if I could bear it
+for him! I am so young and strong and worth nothing to this world
+while he's so wise and good. Everybody who ever knew him must be the
+better for Uncle Hughie."
+
+"'Tis truth. For that, the good Lord will spare him to us. Of that be
+sure."
+
+"But I pray and pray and pray, and there comes no answer. He is never
+any better. You know that. You can't deny it. Always before when I
+have prayed the answer has come swift and sure, but now----"
+
+"Take care, Margot. 'Tis not for us to judge the Lord's strange ways.
+Else were not you and me and the master shut up alone on this island,
+with no doctor near, and only our two selves to keep the dumb things
+in comfort, though, as for dumbness, hark yonder beast!"
+
+"Reynard! Oh! I forgot. I shut him up because he would hang about the
+house and watch your poor chickens. If he'd stay in his own forest
+now, I would be so glad. Yet I love him----"
+
+"Aye, and he loves you. Be thankful. Even a beastie's love is of God's
+sending. Go feed him. Here. The wing you'll not eat yourself."
+
+There were dark days now on the once sunny island of peace.
+
+That day when Mr. Dutton had said: "Your father is still alive,"
+seemed now to Margot, looking back, as one of such experiences as
+change a whole life. Up till that morning she had been a thoughtless,
+unreflecting child, but the utterance of those fateful words altered
+everything.
+
+Amazement, unbelief of what her ears told her, indignation that she
+had been so long deceived--as she put it--were swiftly followed by a
+dreadful fear. Even while he spoke, the woodlander's figure swayed and
+trembled, the hoe-handle on which he rested wavered and fell, and he,
+too, would have fallen had not the girl's arms caught and eased his
+sudden sinking in the furrow he had worked. Her shrill cry of alarm
+had reached Angelique, always alert for trouble and then more than
+ever, and had brought her swiftly to the field. Between them they had
+carried the now unconscious man within and laid him on his bed. He had
+never risen from it since; nor, in her heart, did Angelique believe he
+ever would, though she so stoutly asserted to the contrary before
+Margot.
+
+"We have changed places, Angelique, dear," the child often said. "It
+used to be you who was always croaking and looking for trouble. Now
+you see only brightness."
+
+"Well, good sooth. 'Tis a long lane has no turnin', and better late
+nor never. Sometimes 'tis well to say 'stay good trouble lest worser
+comes,' eh? But things'll mend. They must. Now, run and climb the
+tree. It might be this ver' minute that wretch, Pierre, was on his way
+across the lake. Pouf! But he'll stir his lazy bones, once he touches
+this shore! Yes, yes, indeed. Run and hail him, maybe."
+
+So Margot had gone, again and again, and had returned to sit beside
+her uncle's bed, anxious and watchful.
+
+Often, also, she had paddled across the narrows and made her way
+swiftly to a little clearing on her uncle's land, where, among giant
+trees, old Joseph Wills, the Indian guide and faithful friend of all
+on Peace Island, made one of his homes. Once Mr. Dutton had nursed
+this red man through a dangerous illness, and had kept him in his own
+home for many weeks thereafter. He would have been the very nurse they
+now needed, in their turn, could he have been found. But his cabin was
+closed, and on its doorway, under the family sign-picture of a turtle
+on a rock, he had printed in dialect, what signified his departure for
+a long hunting trip.
+
+Now, as Angelique advised, she resolved to try once more; and hurrying
+to the shore, pushed her canoe into the water and paddled swiftly
+away. She had taken the neglected Reynard with her and Tom had invited
+himself to be a party of the trip; and in the odd but sympathetic
+companionship, Margot's spirits rose again.
+
+"It must be as Angelique says. The long lane will turn. Why have I
+been so easily discouraged? I never saw my precious uncle ill before,
+and that is why I have been so frightened. I suppose anybody gets thin
+and says things, when there is fever. But he's troubled about
+something. He wants to do something that neither of us understand.
+Unless---- Oh! I believe I do understand! My head is clearer out here
+on the water, and I know, I know! it is just about the time of year
+when he goes away on those long trips of his. And we've been so
+anxious we never remembered. That's it. That surely is it. Then, of
+course, Joe will be back now or soon. He always stays on the island
+when uncle goes and he'll remember. Oh! I'm brighter already, and I
+guess, I believe, it is as Angelique claims--God won't take away so
+good a man as uncle and leave me alone. Though--I am not alone! I have
+a father! I have a father, somewhere, if I only knew--all in good
+time--and I'm growing gladder and gladder every minute."
+
+She could even sing to the stroke of her paddle and she skimmed the
+water with increasing speed. Whatever the reason for her growing
+cheerfulness, whether the reaction of youth or a prescience of
+happiness to come, the result was the same; she reached the further
+shore flushed and eager eyed, more like the old Margot than she had
+been for many days.
+
+"Oh! he's there. He is at home. There is a smoke coming out the
+chimney. Joseph! Oh! Joseph, Joseph!"
+
+She did not even stop to take care of her canoe but left it to float
+whither it would. Nothing mattered, Joseph was at home. He had canoes
+galore, and he was help indeed.
+
+She was quite right. The old man came to his doorway and waited her
+arrival with apparent indifference, though surely no human heart
+could have been unmoved by such unfeigned delight. Catching his
+unresponsive hands in hers she cried:
+
+"Come at once, Joseph! At once!"
+
+"Does not the master trust his friend? It is the time to come.
+Therefore I am here."
+
+"Of course. I just thought about that. But, Joseph, the master is ill.
+He knows nothing any more. If he ever needed you he needs you doubly
+now. Come, come at once."
+
+Then, indeed, though there was little outward expression of it, was
+old Joseph moved. He stopped for nothing, but leaving his fire burning
+on the hearth and his supper cooking before it, went out and closed
+the door. Even Margot's nimble feet had ado to keep pace with his long
+strides and she had to spring before him to prevent his pushing off
+without her.
+
+"No, no. I'm going with you. Here. I'll tow my own boat, with Tom and
+Reynard--don't you squabble, pets!--but I'll paddle no more while
+you're here to do it for me."
+
+Joseph did not answer, but he allowed her to seat herself where she
+pleased and with one strong movement sent his big birch a long
+distance over the water.
+
+Margot had never made the passage so swiftly, but the motion suited
+her exactly, and she leaped ashore almost before it was reached, to
+speed up the hill and call out to Angelique wherever she might be:
+
+"All is well! All will now be well--Joseph has come."
+
+The Indian reached the house but just behind her and acknowledged
+Angelique's greeting with a sort of grunt; yet he paused not at all to
+ask the way or if he might enter the master's room, passing directly
+into it as if by right.
+
+Margot followed him, cautioning, with finger on lip, anxious lest her
+patient should be shocked and harmed by the too sudden appearance of
+the visitor.
+
+Then and only then, when her beloved child was safely out of sight did
+Angelique throw her apron over her head and give her own despairing
+tears free vent. She was spent and very weary; but help had come; and
+in the revulsion of that relief nature gave way. Her tears ceased, her
+breath came heavily, and the poor woman slept, the first refreshing
+slumber of an unmeasured time.
+
+When she waked at length, Joseph was crossing the room. The fire had
+died out, twilight was falling, she was conscious of duties left
+undone. Yet there was light enough left for her to scan the Indian's
+impassive face with keen intensity, and though he turned neither to
+the right nor left but went out with no word or gesture to satisfy her
+craving, she felt that she had had her answer:
+
+"Unless a miracle is wrought my master is doomed."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE LETTER
+
+
+From the moment of his entrance to the sick room, old Joe assumed all
+charge to it, and with scant courtesy banished from it both Angelique
+and Margot.
+
+"But he is mine, my own precious uncle. Joe has no right to keep me
+out!" protested Margot, vehemently.
+
+Angelique was wiser. "In his own way, among his own folks, that Indian
+good doctor. Leave him be. Yes. If my master can be save', Joe
+Wills'll save him. That's as God plans; but if I hadn't broke----"
+
+"Angelique! Don't you ever, ever let me hear that dreadful talk again!
+I can't bear it. I don't believe it. I won't hear it. I will not. Do
+you suppose that our dear Lord is--will----"
+
+She could not finish her sentence and Angelique was frightened by the
+intensity of the girl's excitement. Was she, too, growing feverish
+and ill? But Margot's outburst had worked off some of her own
+uncomprehended terror, and she grew calm again. Though it had not been
+put into so many words, she knew from both Angelique's and Joseph's
+manner that they anticipated but one end to her guardian's illness.
+She had never seen death, except among the birds and beasts of the
+forest, and even then it had been horrible to her; and that this
+should come into her own happy home was unbearable.
+
+Then she reflected. Hugh Dutton's example had been her instruction,
+and she had never seen him idle. At times when he seemed most so,
+sitting among his books, or gazing silently into the fire, his brain
+had been active over some problem that perplexed or interested him.
+"Never hasting, never wasting," time, nor thought, nor any energy of
+life. That was his rule and she would make it hers.
+
+"I can, at least, make things more comfortable out of doors. Angelique
+has let even Snowfoot suffer, sometimes, for want of the grooming and
+care she's always had. The poultry, too, and the poor garden. I'm glad
+I'm strong enough to rake and hoe, even if I couldn't lift uncle as
+Joe does."
+
+Her industry brought its own reward. Things outside the house took
+on a more natural aspect. The weeds were cleared away, and both
+vegetables and flowers lifted their heads more cheerfully. Snowfoot
+showed the benefit of the attention she received, and the forgotten
+family in the Hollow chattered and gamboled in delight at the
+reappearance among them of their indulgent mistress. Margot herself
+grew lighter of heart and more positive that, after all, things would
+end well.
+
+"You see, Angelique dismal, we might as well take that broken glass
+sign to mean good things as evil. That uncle will soon be up and
+around again; Pierre be at home; and the 'specimen' from the old cave
+prove copper or something just as rich; and--everybody be as happy as
+a king."
+
+Angelique grunted her disbelief, but was thankful for the other's
+lighter mood.
+
+"Well, then, if you've so much time and strength to spare, go yonder
+and clean up the room that Adrian left so untidy. Where he never
+should have been, had I my own way; but one never has that in this
+world; hey, no. Indeed, no. Ever'thin' goes contrary, else I'd have
+cleared away all trace long sin'. Yes, indeed, yes."
+
+"Well, he is gone. There's no need to abuse him, even if he did not
+have the politeness to say good-bye. Though, I suppose, it was my
+uncle who put a stop to that. What uncle has to do he does at
+once. There's never any hesitation about uncle. But I wish--I
+wish--Angelique Ricord, do you know something? Do you know all the
+history of this family?"
+
+"Why should I not, eh?" demanded the woman, indignantly. "Is it not my
+own family, yes? What is Pierre but one son? I love him, oh! yes.
+But----"
+
+"You adore him, bad and trying as he is. But there is something you
+must tell me. If you know it. Maybe you do not. I did not, till that
+awful morning when he was taken ill. But that very minute he told me
+what I had never dreamed. I was angry; for a moment I almost hated him
+because he had deceived me, though afterward I knew that he had done
+it for the best and would tell me why when he could. So I've tried to
+trust him just the same and be patient. But--he may never be able--and
+I must know. Angelique, where is my father?"
+
+The housekeeper was so startled that she dropped the plate she was
+wiping and broke it. Yet even at that fresh omen of disaster she could
+not remove her gaze from the girl's face nor banish the dismay of her
+own.
+
+"He told--you--that--that----"
+
+"That my father is still alive. He would, I think have told me more;
+all that there may be yet to tell, if he had not so suddenly been
+stricken. Where is my father?"
+
+[Illustration: "WHERE IS MY FATHER?"]
+
+"Oh! child, child! Don't ask me. It is not for me----"
+
+"If uncle cannot and you can, and there is no other person,
+Angelique--you must!"
+
+"This much, then. It is in a far, far away city, or town, or place, he
+lives. I know not, I. This much I know. He is good, a ver' good man.
+And he have enemies. Yes. They have done him much harm. Some day, in
+many years, maybe when you have grown a woman, old like me, he will
+come to Peace Island and forget. That is why we wait. That is why the
+master goes, once each summer, on the long, long trip. When Joseph
+comes, and the bad Pierre to stay. I, too, wait to see him though I
+never have. And when he comes, we must be ver' tender, me and you, for
+people who have been done wrong to, they--they---- Pouf! 'Twas anger I
+was that the master could put the evil-come into that room, yes."
+
+"Angelique! Is that my father's room? Is it? Is that why there are the
+very best things in it? And that wonderful picture? And the fresh
+suits of clothing? Is it?"
+
+Angelique slowly nodded. She had been amazed to find that Margot knew
+thus much of a long withheld history, and saw no harm in adding these
+few facts. The real secret, the heart of the matter--that was not yet.
+Meanwhile, let the child accustom herself to the new ideas and so be
+prepared for what she must certainly learn, should the master's
+illness be a fatal one.
+
+"Oh! then, hear me. That room shall always now be mine to care for. I
+haven't liked the housewifery, not at all. But if I have a father and
+I can do things for him--that alters everything. Oh! you can't mean
+that it will be so long before he comes. You must have been jesting.
+If he knew uncle was ill he would come at once, wouldn't he? He would,
+I know."
+
+Poor Angelique turned her face away to hide its curious expression,
+but in her new interest concerning the "friend's room," as it had
+always been called, Margot did not notice this. She was all eagerness
+and loving excitement.
+
+"To think that I have a father who may come, at any minute, for he
+might, Angelique, you know that, and not be ready for him. Your best
+and newest broom, please; and the softest dusters. That room shall,
+indeed, be cleaned better than anybody else could do it. Just hurry,
+please, I must begin. I must begin right away."
+
+She trembled so that she could hardly braid and pin up her long hair
+out of the way, and her face had regained more than its old-time
+color. She was content to let all that was still a mystery remain for
+the present. She had enough to think about and enjoy.
+
+Angelique brought the things that would be needed and, for once,
+forbore advice. Let love teach the child--she had nought to say. In
+any case she could not have seen the dust, herself, for her dark eyes
+were misty with tears, and her thoughts on matters wholly foreign to
+household cares.
+
+Margot opened the windows and began to dust the various articles
+which could be set out in the wide passage, and did not come round
+to the heavy dresser for some moments. As she did so, finally, her
+glance flew instantly to a bulky parcel, wrapped in sheets of white
+birch-bark, and bearing her own name, in Adrian's handwriting.
+
+"Why, he did remember me, then!" she cried, delightedly, tearing the
+package open. "Pictures! the very ones I liked the best. Xanthippe and
+Socrates, and oh! that's Reynard! Reynard! Reynard, ready to speak!
+The splendid, beautiful creature! and the splendid, generous boy to
+have given it. He called it his 'masterpiece' and, indeed, it was by
+far the best he ever did here. Harmony Hollow--but that's not so fine.
+However, he meant to make it like, and---- Why, here's a note. Why
+didn't I come in here before? Why didn't I think he would do something
+like this? Forgive me, Adrian, wherever you are, for misjudging you
+so. I'm sorry uncle didn't like you and sorry--for lots of things. But
+I'm glad, glad you weren't so rude and mean as I believed. If I ever
+see you I'll tell you so. Now, I'll put these in my own room and then
+get to work again. This room you left so messed shall be as spotless
+as a snowflake before I'm done with it."
+
+For hours she labored there, brushing, renovating, polishing; and when
+all was finished she called Angelique to see and criticise--if she
+could! But she could not; and she, too, had something now of vital
+importance to impart.
+
+"It is beautiful' done, yes, yes. I couldn't do it more clean myself,
+I, Angelique, no. But, my child! Hear, hear, and be calm! The master
+is himself! The master has awoke, yes, and is askin' for his child!
+True, true. Old Joe, he says, 'Come. Quick, soft, no cry, no laugh,
+just listen.' Yes. Oh! now all will be well."
+
+Margot almost hushed her very breathing. Her uncle awake, sane, asking
+for her! Her face was radiant, flushed, eager, a face to brighten the
+gloom of any sick room, however dark.
+
+But this one was not dark. Joe knew his patient's fancies. He had
+forgotten none. One of them was the sunshine and fresh air; and though
+in his heart he believed that these two things did a world of harm,
+and that the ill-ventilated and ill-lighted cabins of his own people
+were more conducive to recovery, he opposed nothing which the master
+desired. He had experimented, at first, but finding a close room
+aggravated Mr. Dutton's fever, reasoned that it was too late to break
+up the foolish habits of a man's lifetime; and as the woodlander had
+lived in the sunlight so he would better die in it, and easier.
+
+If she had been a trained nurse Margot could not have entered her
+uncle's presence more quietly, though it seemed to her that he must
+hear the happy beating of her heart and how her breath came fast and
+short. He was almost too weak to speak at all, but there was all the
+old love, and more, in his whispered greeting:
+
+"My precious child!"
+
+"Yes, uncle. And such a happy child because you are better."
+
+She caught his hand and covered it with kisses, but softly, oh! so
+softly, and he smiled the rare sweet smile that she had feared she'd
+never see again. Then he looked past her to Angelique in the doorway
+and his eyes moved toward his desk in the corner. A little fanciful
+desk that held only his most sacred belongings and had been Margot's
+mother's. It was to be hers some day, but not till he had done with
+it, and she had never cared to own it since doing so meant that he
+could no longer use it. Now she watched him and Angelique wonderingly.
+
+For the woman knew exactly what was required. Without question or
+hesitation she answered the command of his eyes by crossing to the
+desk and opening it with a key she took from her own pocket. Then she
+lifted a letter from an inner drawer and gave it into his thin
+fingers.
+
+"Well done, good Angelique. Margot--the letter--is yours."
+
+"Mine? I am to read it? Now? Here?"
+
+"No, no. No, no, indeed! Would you tire the master with the rustlin'
+of paper? Take it else. Not here, where ever'thin' must be still as
+still."
+
+Mr. Dutton's eyes closed. Angelique knew that she had spoken for him
+and that the disclosure which that letter would make should be faced
+in solitude.
+
+"Is she right, uncle, dearest? Shall I take it away to read?"
+
+His eyes assented, and the tender, reassuring pressure of his hand.
+
+"Then I'm going to your own mountain top with it. To think of having a
+letter from you, right here at home! Why, I can hardly wait! I'm so
+thankful to you for it, and so thankful to God that you are getting
+well. That you will be soon; and then--why, then--we'll go a-fishing!"
+
+A spasm of pain crossed the sick man's wasted features and poor
+Angelique fled the place, forgetful of her own caution to "be still as
+still," and with her own dark face convulsed with grief for the grief
+which the letter would bring to her idolized Margot.
+
+But the girl had already gone away up the slope, faster and faster.
+Surely a letter from nobody but her uncle and at such a solemn time
+must concern but one subject--her father. Now she would know all, and
+her happiness should have no limit.
+
+But it was nightfall when she, at last, came down from the mountain,
+and though there were no signs of tears upon her face neither was
+there any happiness in it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+A QUESTION OF APPAREL
+
+
+"The master."
+
+"He wants me?"
+
+Joe nodded and went out of doors. But it was noticeable that he merely
+walked around to the rear of the sick room and stationed himself
+beside the open window. Not that he might overhear the conversation
+within, but to be near if he were needed. He cast one stern look upon
+Margot, as he summoned her, and was evidently reassured by her own
+calmness.
+
+Three days had passed since she had been given that fateful letter,
+and she had had time to think over its startling contents in every
+connection. There was now not the slightest blame of her guardian for
+having so long kept her in ignorance of her father's existence; and,
+indeed, her love had been strengthened, if that were possible. The
+sick man had gained somewhat, though he was yet very weak and recovery
+was still a question. But, with improvement, came again the terrible
+restlessness and impatience with the circumstances which kept him a
+prisoner in bed, when, of all times in the year, he would be up and
+abroad.
+
+When the child entered the room he was watching for her, eagerly,
+anxiously. How had she borne his news? How would she greet him?
+
+Her first glance answered him. It was so tender, so pitiful, so
+strong.
+
+"My darling! My own Margot! I--need not--have feared."
+
+"There is nothing to fear, dearest uncle. Fear must have been done
+with years ago, when--when--it happened. Now, now, it is time for
+hope, for confidence."
+
+He shook his head mournfully. Then he asked:
+
+"You will let it make no difference in your love, your loyalty to
+him, when--when he comes? If he lives to come?"
+
+"If he had been a father who did not come because he would not, then,
+maybe, I don't know. But a father who could not come, who has been so
+cruelly, frightfully wronged--why, uncle! all my life, no matter how
+long, all my care and devotion, no matter how great, will never, never
+be able to express one-half of my love. And I bless you more for your
+faithfulness to him than for all you've ever done for me--yet even my
+debt to you is boundless."
+
+"My own impulsive, overgrateful Margot! As if it had not been also all
+my life, my happiness. Well, since I cannot go, you must write to him.
+For me and for yourself. Explaining why I cannot come, just yet, but
+that I will as soon as may be. Make it a letter such as you have
+talked just now and it will be better to his hungry heart than even a
+sight of his old friend and brother."
+
+"I will write as many letters for you as you please, but--I will
+deliver them in person."
+
+He did not get the full import of her words, at first, but when he did
+he frowned. It hurt him beyond expression that she should jest on such
+a subject, even for the laudable purpose of cheering himself.
+
+Then he felt her cool hand on his wrist.
+
+"Uncle, I mean it. I have thought it over and over. I have thought of
+nothing else, except that you were getting better, and I know I am
+right. I am going to see my father. I am going to get my father. I
+shall never come back without him. But I shall certainly come, and he
+with me. You cannot go. I can, I want to, beyond telling. I must."
+
+A thousand objections flashed through his mind and the struggle to
+comprehend just what were and were not valid ones wearied him. For
+some time neither of them spoke again, but clasped hands until he fell
+into a sudden sleep. Even then Margot did not release her hold, though
+her cramped position numbed her arm, and her impatience to make him
+see matters from her point of view was hard to control. But he awoke
+almost as suddenly as he had dozed, and with a clear idea of her
+meaning. After all, how simple it was! and what an infinite relief to
+his anxiety.
+
+"Tell me what you think."
+
+"This: My father must not be disappointed. Your visit, the one link
+that connects him with his old life and happiness, is impossible. Each
+year you have taken him reports of me and how I grew. I'm going to
+show him whether you represented me as I am or as your partial eyes
+behold me. More than that, I must go. I must see him. I must put my
+arms about his neck and tell him that I love him, as my mother loved
+him, with all his child's affection added. I must. It is my right."
+
+"But--how. You've never been beyond the forest. You are so young and
+ignorant of--everything."
+
+"Maybe I shall do all the better for that reason. 'Know nothing, fear
+nothing,' and I certainly am not afraid. We are looking for Pierre to
+come home, any day. He should have been here long ago. As soon as he
+comes I will start. Old Joseph shall go with me. He knows what I do
+not, of towns and routes, and all those troublesome things. You will
+give us the money it will cost; and enough to pay for my father's
+coming home. I have made his room ready. There isn't a speck or spot
+in it, and there are fresh flowers every day. There have been ever
+since I knew that room was his. I shall go to that city of New York
+where--where it happened, and I shall find out the truth. I shall
+certainly bring him home with me."
+
+It was absurd. He said that to himself, not once but many times; yet
+despite his common sense and his bitter experience, he could not but
+catch something of her hopefulness. Yet so much the more hard to bear
+would be her disappointment.
+
+"Dear, I have no right, it may be, to stop you. It was agreed upon
+between us that, when you were sixteen years old, if nothing happened
+to make it unnecessary, you should be told. That is, if I believed you
+had a character which could endure sorrow and not turn bitter under
+it. I do so believe, I know. But though you may make the journey, if
+you wish and it can be arranged safely, you must not even hope to do
+more than see your father and that only for a brief time."
+
+Margot smiled. The same bright, unconvinced smile with which she had
+always received any astonishing statement. When, not much more than a
+baby, she had been told that fire would burn, she had laughed her
+unbelief that fire would burn, and had thrust her small hand into the
+flame. The fire had burned, but she had still smiled, and bravely,
+though her lips trembled and there were tears upon her cheeks.
+
+"I must go, uncle. It is my right, and his. I must try this matter for
+myself. I shall never be happy else and I shall succeed. I shall. I
+trust in God. You have taught me that He never fails those who trust
+in Him."
+
+"Have I not trusted? Have I not prayed? Did I not labor till labor was
+useless? But, there, child. Not for me to darken your faith. His ways
+are not as our ways, else this had never come. But you shall go. You
+are right; and may He prosper your devotion!"
+
+She saw that he was tired and, having gained his consent, went gladly
+away to Angelique, to consult with that disturbed person concerning
+her journey.
+
+Angelique heard this strange announcement with incredulity. The master
+was delirious again. That was the explanation. Else he would never,
+never have consented for this outrageous journey from Pontius to
+Pilate, with only a never-say-anything old Indian for escort.
+
+"But you're part Indian yourself, sweet Angelique, so don't abuse your
+own race. As for knowing nothing, who but Joe could have brought my
+uncle through this dreadful sickness so well? I believe it is all a
+beautiful plan.
+
+"Well, we'll see. If Adrian had not come, maybe my uncle would never
+have told me all he has. The letter was written, you know that,
+because he feared he might not live to tell it with his lips. And even
+when he was getting better he thought I still should learn the truth,
+and the written pages held it all. I'm so glad I know. Oh! Angelique,
+think! How happy, how happy we shall be when my father comes home!"
+
+"'Tis that bad Pierre who should be comin', yes. Wait till I get my
+hands about his ears."
+
+"Pierre's too big to have his ears boxed. I don't wonder he hates it.
+I think I would--would box back again if anybody treated me to that
+indignity."
+
+"Pst. Pouf! you are you, and Pierre is Pierre; and as long as he is in
+the world and I am, if his ears need boxin', I shall box them. I, his
+mother."
+
+"Oh! very well. Suit yourself. But now, Angelique!"
+
+"Well? I must go set the churn. Yes, I've wasted too much time,
+already, bein' taught my manners by a chit of a thing like you. Yes. I
+have so. Indeed, yes."
+
+"Come, Angelique. Be good. When you were young, and lived in the
+towns, did the girls who went a-journeying wear bonnets?"
+
+"Did they not? And the good Book that the master reads o' nights,
+sayin' the women must cover their heads. Hmm. I've thought a many time
+how his readin' and his rearin' didn't go hand in glove. Bonnets,
+indeed! Have I not the very one I wore when I came to Peace Island. A
+charmin' thing, all green ribbons and red roses. I shall wear it
+again, to my Pierre's weddin'. 'Tis for that I've been savin' it. And,
+well, because a body has no need to wear out bonnets on this bit of
+land in water. No."
+
+But Angelique was a true woman; and once upon the subject of dress her
+mind refused to be drawn thence. She recalled items of what had been
+her own trousseau, ignoring Margot's ridicule of the clumsy Pierre as
+a bridegroom, and even her assertion that: "I should pity his wife,
+for I expect her ears would have to be boxed, also."
+
+"Come yon. I've that I will show you. 'Tis your mother's own lovely
+clothes. Just as she wore them here, and carefully folded away for you
+till you needed them. Well, that is now, I suppose, if you're to be
+let gad all over the earth, with as good a home as girl ever had right
+here in the peaceful woods."
+
+"Oh! show them to me, Angelique. Quick. Why have you never before? Of
+course, I shall need them now. And, Angelique! That is some more of
+the beautiful plan. The working out of the pattern. Else why should
+there be the clothes here when I need clothes? Answer me that, good
+Angelique, if you can."
+
+"Pst. 'Twas always a bothersome child for questions. But answer one
+yourself. If you had had them before would you have had them ready
+now, and the pleasure of them? No. No, indeed. But come. The clothes
+and then the churnin'. If that Pierre were here, 'twould not be my
+arms would have to ache this night with the dash, dash, dashin'. No.
+No, indeed, no. But come."
+
+Alas! Of all the carefully preserved and dainty garments there was not
+one which Margot could wear.
+
+"Why, Angelique! What a tiny thing she must have been! I can't get
+even my hand through the wrist of this sleeve. And look here. This
+skirt is away up as short as my own. If I've to wear short ones I'll
+not change at all. In the pictures, I've seen lovely ladies with
+skirts on the ground and I thought that was the way I should look if I
+ever went into the world."
+
+"Eh? What? Lovely? You? Hmm. Lovely is that lovely does. Vanity is a
+disgrace to any woman. Has not the master said that often and often?"
+
+Margot flushed. She was not conscious of vanity, yet she did not
+question Angelique's opinion. But she rallied.
+
+"I don't think I should feel at all vain if I put on any of these
+things. That is, if I could even get them on. I should all the time be
+thinking how uncomfortable I was. Well, that's settled. I wear my own
+clothes, and not even my dear mother's. Hers I will always keep for
+her sake; but to her great daughter they are useless. And I'll go
+bareheaded just as here. Why not? I certainly don't need a bonnet,
+with all this hair."
+
+Now Margot's hair was Angelique's especial pride. Indeed, it was a
+wonderful glory upon that shapely young head; but again this was not
+to be admitted.
+
+"Hair! What's hair? Not but you've enough of it for three women, for
+that matter. But it will not do to go that way. It must be braided and
+pinned fast. Here is a bonnet, not so gay as mine, and I would trust
+you with that--only----"
+
+"I wouldn't wear it, dear Angelique. It's lovely and kind for you to
+even think of offering. You must keep that for Pierre's wife, and----"
+
+"I should like to see her with it on! Huh! Indeed! Pouf!"
+
+"There are hats enough of my own mother's, and to wear one may be
+another piece of your 'good luck.' I shall wear this one. It is all
+blue like my frocks, and the little brown ribbon is the color of my
+shoes. Adrian would say that was 'artistic,' if he were here. Oh!
+Angelique! When I go to that far city, do you suppose I shall see
+Adrian? Do you?"
+
+"Do you go there to break your uncle's heart again? 'Tis not Adrian
+you will see, ever again, I hope. No. Indeed, no. See. This shawl. It
+goes so;" and Angelique adjusted the soft, rich fabric around her own
+shoulders, put a hat jauntily upon her head, and surveyed the effect
+with undisguised admiration, as reflected in the little mirror in the
+lid of the big trunk.
+
+"Angelique! Angelique, take care! 'Vanity is a disgrace to any woman!'
+What if that misguided Pierre should see you now? What would he think
+of his----"
+
+Hark! What was that? How dared old Joseph tramp through the house at
+such a pace, with such a noise? and the master still so weak. Why----
+
+The indignant house-mistress disappeared with indignation blazing in
+her eyes.
+
+Margot, also, stood still in the midst of her finery, listening and
+almost as angry as the other; till there came back to her another
+sound so familiar and reassuring that her fears were promptly
+banished, while one more anxiety was lifted from her heart.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+COMING AND GOING
+
+
+"Pierre! and Angelique is boxing his ears! My, what a whack, that I
+can hear it way in here! I must to the rescue, but his coming makes
+right for me to go. Angelique, Angelique, don't! Heigho, Pierre! I'm
+glad you're back!"
+
+But if he heard this welcome he did not heed it, and Margot stood
+amazed at the ridiculous scene upon which she had entered.
+
+There was Angelique, still arrayed in her own flower-bedecked bonnet
+and her mistress' India shawl, being whirled about the big kitchen in
+a crazy sort of waltz which seemed to suit the son's excited mood. Her
+bonnet sat rakishly on one side and the rich shawl dragged over the
+floor, which, fortunately, was too clean to harm it; but amidst her
+enforced exercises, the mother continued to aim those resounding blows
+at her son's great ears. Sometimes they hit the mark, but at others
+fell harmlessly upon his broad shoulders. In any case, they seemed not
+to disturb him but rather to add to the homelikeness of his return.
+
+At length, however, he released his irate parent and held out his hand
+to Margot.
+
+"Done the old lady heap of good. How's things? How's the menagerie?
+and the master?"
+
+"Hey? Where's the manners I've always taught you? Askin' for the
+master last when 'tis he is always first. Yes. Yes, indeed. But,
+Pierre, 'twas nigh no master at all you came home to. He's been at
+death's door for weeks. Even yet----"
+
+Then Angelique turned and saw Margot, whose presence she had not
+before observed. But she rallied instantly, turning her sentence into
+a brisk command:
+
+"Even yet, the churnin' not done and it goin' on to measure nine
+o'clock. Get to the dasher, lad, and tie this big apron round your
+neck. Then change that dirty shirt. That a child of mine should wear
+such filthy things. Pouf! you were always the torment; that is so."
+
+"Just the same, Angelique, dear, your eyes are shining like stars, and
+you are happier than you have been a single minute since that bad boy
+of yours paddled away in the night. If he's to churn I'm to sit beside
+him and hear all his long story first. Come on, Pierre! Oh! how good
+it is to have you back!"
+
+It was, also, most delightful to the mother, even though her happiness
+expressed itself in a peculiar way, by grumbling and scolding as she
+had not done once since real trouble fell upon that home, with the
+illness of its master.
+
+The churn stood outside the kitchen door, for Angelique would allow no
+chance of spilled cream on her scoured boards; so Margot settled
+herself on the door-step and listened while the wanderer gave her a
+long and detailed account of his journey. Meanwhile, and at every few
+minutes, his mother would step to his side, take the dasher from his
+hand and force a bit of food within it. He devoured this greedily,
+though he made no comment, and resumed his churning as soon as the
+tid-bit was consumed. Through all, Angelique's face was beaming and
+her lips fretting, till Margot laughed aloud.
+
+"Oh! Angelique Ricord! Of all the odd people you are the oddest!"
+
+"So? Well, then. How many odd people have you seen, my child that you
+should be so fine a judge? So that evil-come departed to his own, he
+did? May his shadow never darken this door again! 'Twas all along of
+him the trouble came."
+
+"No, Angelique, you forget. It must have been the broken glass! How
+could it possibly have been anything else? Never mind, sweetheart;
+when I come home from my long journey I will bring you a new one, big
+and clear, and that has the power to make even plain folks look
+lovely. If my uncle will let me. Dear, but I do wish you had a bit,
+this minute, to see how silly you look with that big bonnet on!"
+
+Angelique's hand flew to her head in comic dismay. She had carefully
+removed and refolded the beautiful shawl, but had quite forgotten her
+other adornment, which she now tore off in a haste that threatened
+damage to the precious possession.
+
+"Pierre, bid her be careful. That is your wife's bonnet!"
+
+Even the housekeeper had to smile at this and listen patiently while
+Margot made much of the incident. Indeed, she would have willingly
+been laughed at indefinitely, if thus she could herself hear these
+young voices gay with the old-time unconcern.
+
+"And Adrian was good to the poor, wild things. Well, I have hopes of
+Adrian. He didn't have the right sort of rearing to know how the
+forest people feel, but he learned fast. I'm thankful, thankful,
+Pierre Ricord, that you had to lose those fine antlers. If you'd sold
+them and made a lot of money by it, you would have forgotten that the
+moose could suffer and have killed many more. As it is, better one
+should die than many. And Pierre, I'm going away myself. Now that
+you've come home, I'm going at once. Old Joseph and I. Clear to that
+far away New York where Adrian has gone, and to many other places,
+too."
+
+Pierre dropped the dasher with such force that the "half-brought"
+butter, which Angelique was opening the churn to "scrape down
+together," splashed out over the step, Margot's lap, and the ground.
+
+Angelique was too indignant to speak, but Margot cried:
+
+"Oh! Pierre! How careless and wasteful. We've none too much butter,
+anyway."
+
+The lad still stared, open-mouthed. After a minute he asked:
+
+"What's that you said? About that New York?"
+
+"I'm going to New York. I'm going in my uncle's place, to attend to my
+uncle's business. Old Joe is to go with me to take care of me--or I of
+him--and you are to stay here with the master and your mother. You may
+bring King Madoc over if you wish; and, by the way, how did you get
+here, if you have lost your own canoe?"
+
+"Helped myself to one of Joe's. Helped myself to a breakfast, too.
+Joe's stocked up for winter, already. But, I say, Margot. He's no use
+in a big city. Better take me. I was goin' anyway, only after
+that--well, that grave, I made up my mind I'd just step back here a
+spell and take a fresh start. I'm ready, any minute, and Joe hates it.
+Hey?"
+
+"I wouldn't trust myself with you a dozen miles. You're too foolish
+and fickle. Joe is steady and faithful. It's settled. I think,
+Angelique, that we can start to-morrow. Don't you?"
+
+Angelique sighed. All her happiness was once more overclouded. Why
+couldn't well enough be let alone? However, she answered nothing. She
+had sometimes ventured to grumble even at the master but she had never
+questioned his decisions. If it was by his will that her inexperienced
+darling was to face the dangers of an unknown world, with nobody but a
+glum old Indian to serve her, of course, there was nothing for it but
+submission.
+
+At daybreak the next morning, Margot stood beside her uncle's bed,
+clasping his thin hands in parting. His eyes were sad and anxious, but
+hers were bright and full of confidence. He had given his last advice;
+she had ample money for all possible needs, with directions upon whom
+to call for more, should anything arise for which they had not
+prepared, and she had, also, her route marked out on paper, with
+innumerable suggestions about this or that stop; and now, there was
+nothing more to do or say but add his blessing and farewell.
+
+[Illustration: HIS BIRCH CANOE PULLED STEADILY AWAY]
+
+"Good-bye, Margot. Into God's hands I give you."
+
+"The same Hands, uncle, which have cared for me always. I shall come
+back and bring our loved one with me. Get well fast, to make him happy
+when he comes."
+
+A hasty kiss to Angelique who was sobbing herself ill, a clasp of
+Pierre's hand, and she was gone. Joe's birch was pulling steadily away
+from the Island of Peace into that outside world of strife and
+contention, of which the young voyager was so wholly ignorant.
+
+Her eyes were wet and her heart ached, with that same sort of physical
+distress which had assailed her when Adrian went away, but now much
+sharper. Yet her lips still smiled and Joseph, furtively regarding
+her, was satisfied. She would give him no trouble.
+
+A few miles' journey and she had entered what seemed like fairyland.
+She had then no time for looking back or remembering. The towns were
+wonderful, and the first time that she saw a young girl of her own age
+she stared until the stranger made a grimace toward her. This
+perplexed and annoyed her, but taught her a lesson: she stared no
+more.
+
+Yet she saw everything; and in that little book her uncle had provided
+for this object made notes of her impressions, to be discussed with
+him upon her return. Her first ride behind horses made her laugh
+aloud. They were so beautiful and graceful and their strength so
+appealed to her animal-loving heart. The ricketty buck-board, which
+was their first vehicle, seemed luxurious, though after a few miles'
+jogging over a corduroy-road she confided to Joseph that she preferred
+a canoe.
+
+"Umm. No shakeum up."
+
+A stage drawn by four steeds, rather the worse for wear, yet with
+the accompaniment of fellow-travelers and a musical horn, brought
+memories of Cinderella and other childish heroines, and made the old
+tales real; but when they reached the railway and stepped into a car
+her interest grew painfully intense. When the conductor paused to
+take their tickets, obligingly procured for this odd pair by the
+stage-driver, Margot immediately requested to be put upon the engine.
+
+"The engine! Well, upon my word!"
+
+"Yes, I've never seen one, except the one in front of this car-train.
+I know how they operate but I would so dearly like to see them working
+close at hand. Can't I?"
+
+The brass-buttoned official made no reply, save to purse his lips and
+utter another low whistle; but he gave Margot and Joe a critical
+survey and reflected that of all the passengers he had ever carried
+these were the most unique. There was something in the girl's
+intelligent face that was hard to deny, and for all his silence,
+perhaps because of it, a certain dignity about the Indian that won
+favor even for him.
+
+It was a way-train on a branch road; one of the connecting links
+between the wilderness and the land of the "through express" else it
+might not have happened that, after so long a time had elapsed that
+Margot felt her request was indeed refused, the conductor returned and
+whispered in her ear. It was a concession, not to be made general; but
+she was informed:
+
+"I've spoken to the engineer and he says he doesn't mind. Not if
+you'll ask no questions and won't bother."
+
+"I'll not. And I thank you very much."
+
+"Hmm. She may be a backwoods girl but she can give a lesson in manners
+to many a city miss," thought the obliging guide, as he led Margot
+forward through the few cars toward the front; and, at the next stop,
+helped her to the ground and up again into the little shut-in space
+beside the grimy driver of this wonderful iron horse.
+
+Margot never forgot that ride; nor the man at the lever his unknown
+passenger. She had left her obnoxious bonnet upon the seat beside old
+Joseph and her hair had broken from its unaccustomed braid to its
+habitual freedom, so that it enveloped her and streamed behind her
+like a cloud. Her trim short skirt, her heelless shoes, her absence
+of "flummery" aroused the engineer's admiration and he volunteered,
+what he had previously declined to give, all possible information
+concerning his beloved locomotive. He even allowed her, for one brief
+moment to put her own hand on the lever and feel the thrill of that
+resistless plunging forward into space.
+
+It was only when they stopped again and she knew she ought to go back
+to Joe that she ventured to speak.
+
+"I never enjoyed anything so much in my life, nor learned so much in
+so short a time. I wish--I wish--have you a sister, or a little girl?
+Or anybody you love very much?"
+
+"Why, yes. I've got the nicest little girl in the United States. She's
+three years old and as cute as they make 'em."
+
+"You've given me pleasure, I'd like to give her as much. May she have
+this from me, to get--whatever a town child would like?"
+
+"Sure, miss, it's too much; but----"
+
+Margot was gone, and on the engineer's palm shone a bright gold coin.
+All Mr. Dutton's money was in specie and he had given Margot a liberal
+amount of "spending money" for her trip. Money being a thing she knew
+as little about as she did traveling he had determined to let her
+learn its value by experience; yet even he might have been a trifle
+shocked by the liberality of this, her first "tip." However, she saw
+only the gratitude that leaped into the trainman's eyes and was glad
+that she had had the piece handy in her pocket.
+
+Yet, delightful as the novelty of their long journey was, Margot found
+it wearisome; and the nearer she reached its end the more a new and
+uncomfortable anxiety beset her. Joseph said nothing. He had never
+complained nor admired, and as far as sociability was concerned he
+might have been one of those other, wooden Indians which began to
+appear on the streets of the towns, before shops where tobacco
+was sold. She looked at Joe, sometimes, wondering if he saw these
+effigies of his race and what were his opinions on the matter. But
+his face remained stolid and she decided that he was indifferent to
+all such slight affairs.
+
+It was when they first stepped out of their train into the great
+station at New York, that the full realization of her undertaking came
+to her. Even Joseph's face now showed some emotion, of dismay and
+bewilderment, and her own courage died in that babel of noises and the
+crowding rush of people, everywhere.
+
+"Why, what has happened? Surely, there must have been some fearful
+accident, or they would not all hurry so."
+
+Then she saw among the crowd, men in a uniform she recognized, from
+the description her uncle had once given her, and remembered that he
+had then told her if ever she were in a strange place and needed help
+it was to such officers she should apply. When this advice had been
+given, a year before, neither had imagined it would so soon be
+useful. But it was with infinite relief that she now clutched Joseph's
+hand and impelled him to go with her. Gaining the side of an officer,
+she caught his arm and demanded:
+
+"What is the matter? Where are all the people hurrying to?"
+
+"Why--nowhere, in special. Why?"
+
+The policeman had, also, been hastening forward as if his life
+depended upon his reaching a certain spot at a certain time, but now
+he slackened his speed and walked quietly along beside this odd girl,
+at the same moment keeping his eye upon a distant group of gamins bent
+on mischief. It had been toward them he had made such speed, but a
+brother officer appearing near them he turned his attention upon
+Margot and her escort.
+
+"Oh! I thought there was something wrong. Is it always such a racketty
+place? This New York?"
+
+"Always. Why, 'tis quiet here to-day, compared to some."
+
+"Are you an officer of the law? Is it your business to take care of
+strangers?"
+
+"Why, yes. I suppose so."
+
+"Can I trust you? Somebody must direct me. I was to take a cab and
+go--to this address. But I don't know what a cab is from any other
+sort of wagon. Will you help me?"
+
+"Certainly. Give me the card."
+
+Margot handed him the paper with the address of the old friend with
+whom her uncle wished her to stop while she was in the city; but the
+moment the policeman looked at it his face fell.
+
+"Why, there isn't any such place, now. All them houses has been torn
+down to put up a sky-scraper. They were torn down six months ago."
+
+"Why, how can that be? This lady has lived in that house all her life,
+my uncle said. She is a widow, very gentle and refined: she was quite
+poor; though once she had plenty of money. She took boarders, to keep
+a roof over her head; and it isn't at all likely that she would tear
+it down and so destroy her only income. You must be mistaken. Won't
+you ask somebody else, who knows more about the city, please?"
+
+The officer bridled, and puffed out his mighty chest. Was not he "one
+of the finest"? as the picked policemen are termed. If he didn't know
+the streets of the metropolis, who did?
+
+Margot saw that she had made a serious mistake. Her head turned giddy,
+the crowd seemed to surge and close about her, and with a sense of
+utter failure and homesickness she fainted away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+IN THE GREAT RAILWAY STATION
+
+
+"There, dear, you are better. Drink this."
+
+Margot opened her eyes in the big waiting-room for women at the great
+station. A kind-faced woman in a white cap and apron was bending over
+her and holding a cup of bouillon to her lips, which obediently opened
+and received the draught with grateful refreshment.
+
+"Thank you. That is good. Where am I? Who are you?"
+
+The attendant explained: and added, with intent to comfort:
+
+"You are all right. You will be cared for. It was the long going
+without food and the sudden confusion of arrival. The Indian says you
+have not eaten in a long time. He is here, I could not keep him out.
+Is--is he safe?"
+
+The hot, strong soup, and the comforting presence restored the girl so
+far that she could laugh.
+
+"Joe safe? Our own dear old Joseph Wills? Why, madam, he is the very
+best guide in all the state of Maine. Aren't you, Joe? And my uncle's
+most trusted friend. Else he would not be here with me. What happened
+to me that things got so queer?"
+
+"You fainted. That's all."
+
+"I? Why, I never did such a thing in my life before."
+
+Joe drew near. His face seemed still impassive but there was a look of
+profound concern in his small, black eyes.
+
+"Wouldn' eat. Get sick. Joe said. Joe hungry, too."
+
+Margot sat up, instantly, smitten with remorse. If this uncomplaining
+friend admitted hunger she must have been remiss, indeed.
+
+"Oh, dear madam! Please get him something to eat, or show him where to
+get it for himself. This last part of the road, or journey, was so
+long. The train didn't stop anywhere, hardly, and I saw none of the
+eating places I had seen on the other trains. We were late, too, in
+starting, and had no breakfast. My own head whirls yet, and poor Joe
+must be famished. I have money, plenty, to pay for everything."
+
+The station matron called an attendant and put Joe in his charge. She,
+also, ordered a tray of food brought from the restaurant and made
+Margot eat. Indeed, she was now quite ready to do this and heartily;
+and her appetite appeased, she told the motherly woman as much of her
+story as was necessary; asking her advice about a stopping place, and
+if she, too, thought it true that the widow's house had been
+demolished.
+
+"Oh, yes, miss. I know that myself, for I live not so far from that
+street. It is, or was, an old-fashioned one, and full of big houses
+that had once been grand but had run down. The property was valuable,
+though, and no doubt the widow bettered herself by selling. More
+than that, if she is still in the city, her name should be in the
+directory. I'll look it up and if I find it, telephone her. After we
+do that will be time enough to look for some other place, if she is
+not to be found."
+
+Margot did not understand all this, and wondered what this quiet,
+orderly person had to do with the starting of trains, which she could
+hear continually moving out and in the monster building, even though
+she could not see them from this inner room. But this wonder was soon
+lost in a fresh surprise as, having consulted a big book which was
+chained to a desk in one corner, the matron came forward, smiling.
+
+"I've found the name, miss. Spelled just as you gave it to me. The
+number is away up town, in Harlem. But I'll ring her up and see."
+
+Again the matron crossed the room, toward a queer looking arrangement
+on the wall; but, a new train arriving, the room so filled with women
+and children that she had no more leisure to attend to Margot.
+However, she managed to tell her:
+
+"Don't worry. I'll be free soon again, for a minute. And I'll tell
+that Indian to sit just outside the door, if you wish. You can sit
+there with him, too, if it makes you feel more at home. You're all
+right now, and will not faint again."
+
+"No, indeed. I never did before nor shall again, I hope."
+
+Yet Margot was very thankful when she and Joe were once more side by
+side, and now amused herself in studying the crowds about her.
+
+"Oh! Joe, there are more 'types' here in a minute than one could see
+at home in years. Look. That's a Swede. I know by the shape of his
+face, and his coloring. Though I never saw a live Swede before."
+
+"Wonder if she ever saw a dead one!" said a voice in passing, and
+Margot knew she had been ridiculed, yet not why. Then, too, she saw
+that many glances were turned upon the bench where she and Joe sat,
+apart from the crowd and, for almost the first time, became conscious
+that in some way she looked not as other people. However, she was
+neither over-sensitive nor given to self-contemplation and she had
+perfect faith in her uncle's judgment. He had lived in this great
+city, he knew what was correct. He had told her to ask the widow to
+supply her with anything that was needed. She had nothing to do now
+but wait till the widow was found, and then she could go on about the
+more important business which had brought her hither.
+
+As she remembered that business, her impatience rose. She was now, she
+must be, not only within a few miles of her unknown father, but of the
+man who had wronged him, whom she was to compel to right that wrong.
+She sprang to her feet. The crowd that had filled the waiting-room was
+again thinning, for a time, and the matron should be free. Would she
+never come?
+
+"Then I'll go to her! Stay right here, Joe. Don't leave this place a
+minute now till I get back. Then we'll not lose each other. I'll come
+for you as soon as I can."
+
+Joe grunted his assent and closed his eyes. He, too, was conscious of
+staring eyes and indignant at them. Had nobody ever seen an Indian
+before? Were not these clothes that he was wearing the Master's gift
+and of the same sort all these other men wore? Let them gaze, if that
+suited the simple creatures. As for him he was comfortable. The bench
+was no harder than the ground. Not much harder. He would sleep. He
+did.
+
+But Margot found the matron doing a strange thing. She had a long pipe
+running from a box on the wall, and sometimes she was calling into it,
+or a hole beside it, in the most absurd way: "Hello! Hello, Central!"
+or else she was holding the tube to her ear and listening.
+
+"What is it? What are you doing?"
+
+"The telephone. I'm ringing up your friend. I'll tell you what I hear,
+soon."
+
+Even the matron rather objected to having this oddly-dressed,
+inquisitive girl continually at hand, asking questions. She was busy
+and tired, and Margot understood that she was dismissed to her bench
+and Joe.
+
+There she settled herself to think. It was time she did. If this
+friendly widow, whom her family had always known, could not be found,
+where should she go? To some hotel she supposed, and wondered which
+and where.
+
+She was still deep in her musings when the matron touched her arm.
+
+"I got an answer. The number is all right. It is the lady's home when
+she is in town, but she has been in the country all summer. The
+boarding-house--it's that--is closed except for the janitor, and he
+doesn't know where she has gone. That's all."
+
+It might be "all," but it made the woodlander's heart sink. Then she
+looked up and saw a vaguely familiar profile, yet she knew nobody, had
+seen nobody at home, and not even on her journey, whom she could
+remember to have been just like this.
+
+It was the face of a young man, who was dressed like all these other
+city men about her, though with a something different and finer in the
+fit and finish of the light gray suit he wore. A slight moustache
+darkened his upper lip, and he fingered this lovingly, as one might a
+new possession. A gray haired lady leaned lightly on his arm and he
+carried her wraps upon his other. Suddenly she spoke to him, as they
+moved outward toward a suburban train, and he smiled down upon her. It
+was the smile that revealed him--Adrian.
+
+"Why, how could I fail to know him! Adrian--then all is right!"
+
+She forgot Joe and all else save that retreating figure which she must
+overtake, and dashed across the room regardless of the people who
+hindered her progress, and among whom she darted with lightning-like
+speed.
+
+"Adrian! Adrian! ADRIAN!"
+
+Their train was late, the lady had been helped to the last platform,
+and the young man sprang after her just as it was moving out. He heard
+his own name and turned, wondering and startled, to see a light-haired
+girl fiercely protesting against a blue-coated official, who firmly
+barred her passage beyond the stile into the dangerous region of a
+hundred moving cars.
+
+"Your ticket, miss! Your train--which is it?"
+
+"Ticket! It's Adrian I want. Adrian, who has just gone on that
+car--oh, so fast, so fast! Adrian!"
+
+"Too bad, miss, and too late. Sorry. The next train out will not be
+many minutes. Likely your friends will wait for you at your station.
+Which is it?"
+
+"My friends? Oh! I don't know. I guess--I guess I haven't any."
+
+She turned away slowly, her heart too heavy for further speech, even
+had there been any speech possible; and there was Joe, the faithful
+and silent, laying his hand on her shoulder and guiding her back to
+their own bench.
+
+"One girl runs away, get lost. Joe go home no more."
+
+"Poor Joe, dear Joe. I had no idea of running away. But I saw
+somebody, that boy who was at the island this summer, and I tried to
+make him see me. Too late, as the man said. He has gone, and now we,
+too, must go somewhere. I'll ask that nice woman. She'll tell us, I
+think," and she again sought the matron.
+
+"Yes. I do know a good place for you, if--they'll take you in. Meaning
+no harm miss, but you see, you aren't fixed just the same, and the
+Indian----"
+
+"Is it a question of clothes? It's not the clothing makes the
+character, my uncle says."
+
+"No, miss, I suppose not. All the same they go a mighty long way
+toward making friends, leastways in this big city. And Indians----"
+
+"Joe Wills is just as noble and as honest as any white man ever
+lived!"
+
+"Maybe so. Indeed, I'm not denying it, but Indians are Indians, and
+some landladies might think of tomahawks."
+
+Margot's laugh rang out and the other smiled in sympathy.
+
+"Joe, Joe! Would you scalp anybody?"
+
+Then, indeed, was the red man's impassivity broken by a grin, which
+happily relieved the situation, fast becoming tragic.
+
+"Well, I'm not wise in city ways but I know that I can find a safe
+shelter somewhere. I'm going to ask that policeman, yonder, to find us
+a place."
+
+"That's sensible, and I'll talk with him myself. If he isn't on duty
+likely he'll take you to my friend's himself. By the way, who was that
+you ran after and called to so loud? You shouldn't do that in a big,
+strange station, you know."
+
+"I suppose not; yet I needed him so, and it was Adrian, who's been at
+my own home all summer. If he'd heard, or seen me, he would have taken
+all the care, because this is where he's always lived. The same
+familiar spot that--that dear Peace Island is to Joe and me," she
+said, with a catch in her voice and laying her hand affectionately
+upon his sleeve.
+
+"Adrian? A Mr. Adrian?"
+
+"Why, no. He is a Wadislaw. His father's name is Malachi Wadislaw, and
+my business here is with him."
+
+"Wadislaw, the banker? Why then, of course, it's all right. Officer,
+please call a cab and take them to Number -- West Twenty-fifth Street.
+That's my friend's; and say I sent them."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+NUMBER 526
+
+
+"Mother, that was Margot!"
+
+Mrs. Wadislaw heard but did not comprehend what Adrian was saying. She
+was flushed and panting from her rush after the retreating train and
+her nerves were excited.
+
+"I'll never, never--run--for any car--in this world, again!" she
+gasped. "It's dangerous, and--so--so uncomfortable. My heart----"
+
+"Poor mother! I'm sorry. I'll get you some water."
+
+The young fellow was excited himself but on quite a different matter;
+yet he knew that nothing could be done for the present and that the
+disturbed lady would take no interest in anything until her own
+agitation was calmed.
+
+"No, no. Don't you leave me. Touch the button. Let the porter
+attend--I--I am so shaken. I'll never, never do it again."
+
+He obeyed her and sat down in the easy-chair beside her. She had been
+compelled to run else they had been left behind, and she had been
+hurried from the platform of that last car through the long train to
+their own reserved seats in the drawing-room car.
+
+"It was foolish; doubly so, because trains are so frequent. There was
+no need for haste, anyway, was there?"
+
+"Only this need: that when anybody accepts a dinner invitation one
+should never keep a hostess waiting."
+
+"But when the hostess is only your own sister, and daughter?"
+
+"One should be most punctilious in one's own family. Oh, yes. It is no
+laughing matter, my son, and since you have come home and regained
+your common sense, you must regard all these seeming trifles. Half the
+disagreements and discomforts of life are due to the fact that even
+well-bred people treat their own households with a rudeness they
+would not dare show strangers. Now that you have given up your
+careless habits I shall take care to remind you of all these details,
+and expect to see you a finished society man within a twelvemonth."
+
+"No, indeed!"
+
+"Adrian! How can you trifle so? Now when you've so lately been
+restored to me?"
+
+"Dearest mother, I am not trifling. I should be, though, if I meant to
+shine nowhere else than at a fashionable dinner-table. There, don't
+look worried. I'll try not to disgrace you, yet---- Well, I've learned
+a higher view of life than that. But can you hear me now? That was
+Margot--woodland Margot--who saved my life!"
+
+"Nonsense. It couldn't be."
+
+"It surely was; and I'm going to ask you to excuse me from this one
+visit so that I can go back and find her."
+
+"Find her? If it were she, and I'm positive you are mistaken, of
+course she is not in the city alone. Her uncle must be with her, and
+your sister will be deeply hurt if you fail her this first time. At a
+dinner, you know, there are a certain and limited number of guests.
+The failure of one leaves his or her partner in an awkward position.
+You must keep your engagement, even if---- But, Adrian?"
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"You must not exaggerate your obligations to those people. They did
+for you only what anybody would do for a man lost in the woods. By
+their own admission you were worth a great deal to that farmer. Else
+he never would have parted with eighty dollars, as he did. I shall
+always prize the gold piece you brought me; indeed, I mean to have
+it set in a pin and wear it. But this Maine farmer, or lumberman,
+or whatever he is, just drop him out of mind. His very name is
+objectionable to me, and you must never mention it before your father.
+Years ago there was a--well, something unpleasant with some people;
+and, please oblige me by--by not being disagreeable now. After all my
+anxiety while you were gone and about your father's health, I think--I
+really----"
+
+Adrian slipped his arm across the back of the lady's chair and smiled
+upon her, lovingly. He was trying his utmost to make up to her and all
+his family for whatever they had suffered because of his former
+"misdeeds." He had come home full of high resolves and had had his
+sincerity immediately tested by his father's demanding that:
+
+"If you are in earnest, if you intend to do a son's part by us, go
+back into the bank and learn a good business. This 'art' you talk
+about, what is it? But the shifty resource of a lot of idle fellows.
+Get down to business. Dollars are what count, in this world. Put
+yourself in a place where you can make them, and while I am alive to
+aid you."
+
+Adrian's whole nature rebelled against this command, yet he had obeyed
+it. And he had inwardly resolved that, outside the duties of his
+clerkship, his time was his own and should be devoted to his beloved
+painting.
+
+"After all, some of the world's finest pictures have been done by
+those whose leisure was scant. If it's in me it will have to come out.
+Some time, in some way, I'll live my own life in spite of all."
+
+It had hurt him, too, a little that his people so discouraged all
+history of his wanderings.
+
+All of his sisters were married and well-connected, and one of them
+voiced the opinion of all, when she said:
+
+"Your running away, or your behaving so that you had to be sent away,
+is quite disgrace enough. That you are back safe, and sensible, is all
+any of us care to know."
+
+But because he was forbidden to talk of his forest experiences he
+dwelt upon them all the more in his own mind; and this afternoon's
+glimpse of Margot's sunny head had awakened all his former interest.
+Why was she in New York? Was the "master" with her? He, of whom
+his own mother spoke in such ignorant contempt, as a "farmer," a
+"lumberman," yet who was the most finished scholar and gentleman that
+Adrian had ever met.
+
+"Well, I can't get home till after that wretched dinner, and I should
+have to wait for the next train, anyway, even if the 'mater' would let
+me off. I've promised myself to make her happy, dear little woman, if
+I can, and sulking over my own disappointments isn't the way to do
+that," he reflected. So he roused himself to talk of other matters,
+and naturally of the sister at whose home they were to dine.
+
+"I don't see what made Kate ever marry a warden of state's prison. I
+should think life in such a place would be hateful."
+
+"That shows how little you know about it, and what a revelation this
+visit will be to you. Why, my dear, she has a beautiful home, with
+horses and carriages at her disposal; her apartments are finely
+furnished and she has one comfort that I have not, or few
+housekeepers in fact."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"As many servants as she requires, and at no expense to herself.
+Servants who are absolutely obedient, thoroughly trained, and never
+'giving notice.'"
+
+"I do not understand."
+
+"They are the convicts. Why, they even have an orchestra to play at
+their entertainments, also of convicts; the musical ones to whom the
+playing is a great reward and treat. I believe they are to play
+to-night."
+
+"Horror! I hope not. I don't want to be served by any poor fellow out
+of a cell."
+
+"You'll not think about that. Not after a little. I don't at all, now,
+though I used to, sometimes, when they were first in office. It's odd
+that though they've lived at Sing Sing for two years you've not been
+there yet."
+
+"Not so odd, little mother. Kate and I never get along together very
+well. She's too dictatorial. Besides, she was always coming home and
+I saw her there. I had no hankering after a prison, myself. And
+speaking of disgrace, I feel that her living in such a place is worse
+than anything I ever did."
+
+"Adrian, for a boy who has ordinary intelligence you do say the
+strangest things. The office of warden is an honorable one and well
+paid."
+
+The lad smiled and his mother hastily added:
+
+"Besides, it gives an opportunity for befriending the unhappy
+prisoners. Why, there is a man----"
+
+She hesitated, looked fixedly at her son as if considering her next
+words, then concluded, rather lamely:
+
+"But you'll see."
+
+She opened her novel and began to read and Adrian also busied himself
+with the evening paper; and presently the station was reached and they
+left the train.
+
+A carriage was in waiting for them, driven by men in livery, and
+altogether quite smart enough to warrant his mother's satisfaction as
+they stepped into it and were whirled away to the prison.
+
+But as he had been forewarned, there was no suggestion of anything
+repulsive in the charming apartments they entered, and his sister's
+greeting was sufficiently affectionate to make him feel that he had
+misjudged her in the past.
+
+All the guests were in dinner dress and Adrian was appointed to take
+in his own mother, Kate having decided that this would be a happy
+surprise to both parties. They had been the last to arrive and as soon
+as greetings were over the meal was immediately served; but on their
+way toward the dining-room, Mrs. Wadislaw pressed her son's arm and
+nodded significantly toward the leader of the palm-hidden orchestra.
+
+"Take a look at that man."
+
+"Yes. Who is he?"
+
+"A convict, life sentence. Number 526. He plays divinely, violin.
+But----"
+
+Again she hesitated and looked sharply into Adrian's face. Should she,
+or should she not, tell him the rest? Yes. She must; it would be the
+surest, shortest way of curing his infatuation for those wood people.
+Her boy had spoken of this Margot as a child, yet with profound love
+and admiration. It would be as well to nip any nonsense of that sort
+in the bud. There was only a moment left, they were already taking
+their places at the elegantly appointed table, and she whispered the
+rest:
+
+"He is in for robbery and manslaughter,--your own father the victim.
+His name is Philip Romeyn, and your woodland nonpareil is his
+daughter."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+FATHER AND SON
+
+
+"Mother!"
+
+Adrian's cry was a gasp. He could not believe that he had heard
+aright; but he felt himself pulled down into his chair and realized
+that though his spiritual world had been turned upside down, as it
+were, this extraordinary dinner must go on. There was only one fact
+for which to rejoice, a trivial one: he had been placed so that he
+could look directly into that palm-decked alcove and upon this
+convict, Number 526.
+
+Convict! Impossible. The fine head was not debased by the
+close-cropped hair, and held itself erect as one upon which no shadow
+of guilt or disgrace had ever rested. The face was noble, despite its
+lines and the prison pallor; and though hard labor had bowed the once
+stalwart shoulders, they neither slouched nor shrunk together as did
+those of the other poor men in that group.
+
+"Adrian! Remember where you are."
+
+Even the bouillon choked him and the fish was as ashes in his mouth.
+Courses came on and were removed, and he tasted each mechanically,
+prodded to this duty by his mother's active elbow. Her tact and
+volubility covered his silence, though there was nobody at that table,
+save herself, who did not mentally set the lad down as an ignorant,
+ill-bred person, oddly unlike the others of his family. Handsome? Oh!
+yes. His appearance was quite correct and even noticeable, but if a
+man were too stupid to open his mouth, save to put food into it, his
+place at a social function were better filled by a plainer and more
+agreeable person.
+
+But all things end, as even that intolerable dinner finally did, and
+Adrian was free to rise and in some quieter place try to rearrange
+his disordered ideas. But he noticed that Kate signaled her mother
+to lead the guests from the room while she, herself, remained to
+exchange a few words with her chief musician. Adrian, also, lingered,
+unreproved, with an intensity of interest which fully redeemed his
+face from that dulness which his sister had previously assigned to it.
+She even smiled upon him, reassuringly:
+
+"You'll get used to society after a bit, brother. You've avoided it so
+much and lived so among those artists that you're somewhat awkward
+yet. But you'll do in time, you'll do very well. I mean to make it a
+point that you shall attend all my little functions."
+
+But Adrian resolved that he would never grace, or disgrace, another in
+this place, though he answered nothing. Then the lady turned to Number
+526, and the boy's eyes fixed themselves upon that worn face, seeking
+resemblances, trying to comprehend that this unhappy fellow was the
+father of his sunny Margot.
+
+Kate was speaking now with an accent intended to be kind, even
+commendatory, but her brother's ear detected, also, its tone of
+condescension. Did the convict notice it, as well? If so, his face
+showed no sign.
+
+"You did well, my man, very well. I think that there might be a bit
+more time allowed for practice, and will speak to the warden about it.
+But you, personally, have a remarkable gift. I hope you will profit by
+it to your soul's good. I shall want you and your men again for a time
+this evening. I have the warden's consent in the matter. A few arias
+and dreamy waltzes, perhaps that sonata which you and 1001 played the
+other day at my reception. Just your violin and the piano. You will
+undertake it? The instruments shall be screened, of course."
+
+Adrian was leaning forward, his hands clenched, his lips parted. His
+gaze became more and more intense. Suddenly the convict raised his own
+eyes and met the youth's squarely, unflinchingly. They were blue eyes,
+pain-dimmed, but courageous. Margot's eyes, in very shape and color,
+as hers might be when life had brought her sorrow. For a half-minute
+the pair regarded one another, moved by an influence the elder man
+could not understand; then Adrian's hand went out invitingly, while he
+said:
+
+"Allow me to thank you for your music. I've never heard a violin speak
+as yours does."
+
+The convict hesitated, glanced at the warden's lady, and replied:
+
+"Probably because no other violin has been to any other man what this
+has been to me."
+
+But he did not take the proffered hand and, with a bow that would have
+graced a drawing-room rather than a cell, clasped his instrument
+closely and quietly moved away.
+
+Kate was inured to prison sights, yet even she was touched by this
+little by-play, though she reproved her too warm-hearted brother.
+
+"Your generosity does you credit, dear, but we never shake the hand
+of a prisoner, except when he is leaving. Not always then."
+
+"Kate, wait a minute. Tell me all about that man. I thought the
+prisoners were kept under lock and key. I thought---- Oh! it's so
+awful, so incredible."
+
+"Why, Adrian! How foolish. Your artistic temperament, I suppose, and
+you cannot help it. No. They are by no means always kept so close.
+This one is a 'trusty.' So were all the orchestra. So are all whom
+you see about the house or grounds. This man is the model for the
+whole prison. He is worth more, in keeping order, than a hundred
+keepers. His influence is something wonderful, and his life is a
+living sermon. His repentance is unmistakably sincere, and his
+conduct will materially shorten his term, yet it will be a dark day
+for the institution when he leaves it. I cannot help but like him and
+trust him; and yet---- Dear, dear! I must not loiter here. I must get
+back to my guests."
+
+"Wait, wait. There's something I want to ask you. To tell you, too. Do
+you know who that man is?"
+
+Kate shivered.
+
+"Do I not? Oh! Adrian, though I have brought myself to look upon him
+so indulgently now, it was not so at first. Then I hated the sight of
+his face, and could scarcely breathe in the room where he was. He is
+under life-sentence for manslaughter and--I wonder if I ought to tell
+you! But I must. The situation is so dramatic, so unprecedented. The
+man whom Number 526 tried to kill, and whom he robbed of many
+thousands, was--our own father!"
+
+He was not even surprised and her astonishing statement fell
+pointless, except that he shivered a little, as she had done, and
+withdrew his hand from her arm, where it had arrested her departure.
+
+"I have heard that already. Mother told me. But I don't believe it.
+That man never, never attempted or committed a crime. If he were
+guilty could he lift his eyes to mine so steadfastly, I, the son of my
+father? There is some horrible, horrible mistake. I don't know what,
+nor how, but there is. And I will find it out, will set it right. I
+must. I shall never know another moment's peace until I do. Those eyes
+of his! Why, sister, do you know that it was little Margot, that man's
+daughter, who saved me from starvation in the forest? Yes, saved my
+life; and whose influence has turned me from an idle, careless lad
+into--a man."
+
+If any of those critical guests could have seen his face at that
+moment they would not have called him stupid; and his excitement
+communicated itself so strongly to his sister, that she passed her
+hands across her brow as if to clear her startled thoughts.
+
+"Impossible. Fifteen years has Number 526 lived a prison life, and if
+there had been any mistake, it would, it must, have been found out
+long ago. Why, the man had friends, rich ones, who spent great sums to
+prove his innocence and failed. The evidence was too strong. If he
+had had his way we two would have long been fatherless."
+
+Kate turned to leave the room but Adrian did not follow her. The place
+had become intolerable to him, yet he blessed the chance which had
+brought him there to see this unhappy fellow-man and to learn this
+amazing story. Now he could not wait to put distance between himself
+and the hateful spot, and to begin the unraveling of what he knew,
+despite all proof, was somebody's terrible blunder.
+
+As cautiously as any convict of them all, escaping from his fetters,
+the lad made his way into the street and thence with all speed to the
+station. He had picked up a hat somewhere, but was still in full
+dress, and more than one glance fell with suspicion upon his heated
+countenance and disordered appearance. However, he was too deep in his
+own thoughts to observe this, and as the train rushed cityward he grew
+more calm and better able to formulate a plan of action.
+
+"I begin to understand. This yearly visit of the 'master' has been to
+Number 526. They were close friends, and brothers by marriage. This
+year he has brought Margot with him. Will he, I wonder, will he let
+her see this convict in stripes? No marvel that my question as to her
+father's burial place was an unanswerable one. Mother desired me not
+to mention the names of my forest friends before my father, but in
+this I must disobey her. I dare not do otherwise. I must get the
+whole, complete, detailed history of this awful affair, and there is
+nobody who could so well remember it as its victim. But I believe
+there were two victims, and one is suffering still. I only hope that
+father's head will not be troubling him. I can't think of him without
+these queer 'spells' yet he has always been capable of transacting
+business, and I must get him to talk, even if it does confuse him. Oh!
+hum! Will we never reach the city! And where is Margot now? If I knew
+I should hurry to see her first; but--what a welcome her uncle would
+give me if I succeeded in clearing her father's name. No wonder he
+disliked me--rather I am astonished that he let me stay at all,
+knowing my name, even if not my parentage. After that, of course, I
+had to go. Yet he was kind and just to the last, despite his personal
+feeling, and this poor Number 526 looks just as noble."
+
+The house on Madison Avenue was dark when Adrian reached it, but he
+knew that his father's private room was at the rear of the building
+and, admitting himself with his latch-key, went directly there.
+
+The banker sat in an attitude familiar to all his family, with his
+hands locked together, his head bent, and his gaze fixed upon vacancy.
+He might have been asleep for all appearances, but when Adrian entered
+and bade "Good-evening, father," he responded promptly enough.
+
+"Good-evening, Adrian. Has your mother come home?"
+
+"No, father. I left--well, I left rather suddenly. In any case, you
+know, she was to stop for the night with Kate. But I came, right after
+dinner, because I want to have a talk with you. Are you equal to it,
+to-night, sir?"
+
+The banker flashed a suspicious glance upward, then relapsed into his
+former pose. Memories of previous disagreeable "talks" with this, his
+only son, arose, but Adrian anticipated his remark.
+
+"Nothing wrong with me, this time, father, I hope. I am trying to
+learn the business and to like it. I----"
+
+"Have you any money, Adrian?"
+
+"A little. What is left of my salary; more than I should have if
+mother hadn't fitted my wardrobe out so well. A clerk even in your
+bank doesn't earn a princely sum, you remember; not at first."
+
+It was a well-known fact, upon the "street," that the employees of
+"Wadislaw's" received almost niggardly payment. Wadislaw, himself had
+the reputation of penuriousness, and that his family had lived in the
+style they had was because Mrs. Wadislaw's personal income paid
+expenses.
+
+"Put it away. Put it away where nobody can find it. There are more
+robbers than honest men in the country. Once I was robbed, myself. Of
+an enormous sum. I have never recovered from that set-back. We should
+not have gotten on at all but for your mother. Your mother is a very
+good woman, Adrian."
+
+"Why, yes, father. Of course. The very best in the world, I believe.
+She has only one fault, she will make me go into society, and I
+dislike it. Otherwise, she's simply perfect."
+
+"Yes, yes. But she watches me too closely, boy. Don't let your wife be
+a spy upon you, lad."
+
+"No, I won't," laughed he. "But speaking of robberies, I wish you
+would tell me about that great one which happened to you. It was when
+I was too young to know anything about it. I have a particular reason
+for asking. If you are able, that is."
+
+"Why shouldn't I be able? It is never out of my mind, night nor day.
+There was always a mystery in it. Yet I would have trusted him as I
+trusted myself. More than I would dare trust anybody now, even you, my
+son."
+
+The man was thoroughly aroused, at last. Adrian began to question if
+he had done right in saying what would move him so, knowing that all
+excitement was apt to be followed by a "spell," during which he acted
+like a man in a dream, though never sleeping.
+
+But he resumed the conversation, voluntarily, and Adrian listened
+intently.
+
+"He was a poor boy from a country farm. Your mother and the girls,
+were boarding at his home. I went up for Sundays, for I liked his
+horses. I never felt I could afford to own one---- Don't buy a horse,
+Adrian!"
+
+"No, father. Not yet. I'm rather more anxious to buy a certain moose I
+know and present it to the city Zoo. King Madoc. You remember I told
+you about the trained animal, who would swim and tow a boat, and could
+be harnessed to draw a sleigh?"
+
+"Umm. Indeed? Remarkable. Quite remarkable. But I wouldn't do it, boy.
+The gift would not be appreciated. Nobody ever does appreciate
+anything. It is a selfish world. A selfish world, and an ungrateful
+one."
+
+"Not wholly, father, I hope."
+
+"We were talking. What about? I--my memory--so much care, and the
+difficulty of keeping secrets. It's hard to keep everything to one's
+self when a man grows old, Adrian."
+
+"Yes, father dear. But I'm at home now to stay. You must trust me more
+and rely upon me. Believe me, I will deserve your confidence. But it
+was the boy from the farm you were telling me of, and the horses."
+
+In all his life Adrian had never drawn so near his father's real self
+as he was drawing then. He rejoiced in this fact as a part of the
+reward of his more filial behavior. He meant wholly what he had just
+promised, but he was still most anxious to hear this old story from
+this participant's own lips, while they were together, undisturbed.
+
+"Yes, yes. Well, I thought I could drive a pair of colts as well as
+any jockey, though I knew no more about driving than any other city
+business man. Of course, they ran away, and I should have been killed,
+but that little shaver---- Why, Adrian, that little shaver just sprung
+on the back of one, from where he'd been beside me in the wagon, and
+he held and pulled and wouldn't let go till they'd quieted down, and
+then he was thrown off and nearly trampled to death. I wasn't hurt a
+bit, not a single bit. You'd think I'd befriend such a brave,
+unselfish little chap as that, wouldn't you, lad?"
+
+In the interest of his recital Mr. Wadislaw had risen and paced the
+floor, but he now sat down again, flushed and a bit confused.
+
+"What did you do for him, father?"
+
+"Hmm. What? Oh! yes. Found out he wanted to come to New York and put
+him to school. Made a man of him. Gave him a place in the bank.
+Promoted him, promoted him, promoted him. Till he got almost as high
+as I was myself. Trusted him with everything even more than myself for
+he never forgot. It would have been better if he had."
+
+A long silence that seemed intolerable to Adrian's impatience.
+
+"Then, father, what next?"
+
+"How curious you are! Well, what could be next? except that I went one
+night--or day--I don't remember--he went---- The facts were all
+against him. There was no hope for him from the beginning. If I had
+died, he would have hanged, that boy--that little handsome shaver who
+saved my life. But I didn't die, and he only tried to kill me. They
+found him at the safe--we two, only, knew the lock--and the iron bar
+in his hand. He protested, of course. They always do. His wife
+came---- Oh! Adrian, I shall never forget her face. She was a
+beautiful woman, with such curious, wonderful hair, and she had a
+little baby in her arms, while she pleaded that I would not prosecute.
+The baby laughed, but what could I do? The law must take its course.
+The money was gone and my life almost. There was no hope for him from
+the beginning, though he never owned his guilt. But I didn't die,
+and--Adrian, why have you asked me all this to-night? I am so tired. I
+often am so tired."
+
+The lad rose and stood beside his father's chair, laying his arm
+affectionately around the trembling shoulders, as any daughter might
+have done, as none of this stern father's daughters dared to do.
+
+"I have asked you, father, and pained you because it was right. I had
+to ask. To-day I have seen this 'little shaver,' a convict in his
+prison. I have looked into a face that is still noble and undaunted,
+even after all these years of suffering and shame. I have heard of a
+life that is as helpful behind prison bars as the most devoted
+minister's outside them. And I know that he is innocent. He never
+harmed you or meant to. I am as sure of this as that I stand here, and
+it is my life's task to undo this wrong that has been done. You would
+be glad to see him righted, would you not, father? After all this
+weary time?"
+
+"I--I--don't--I am ill, Adrian, I---- Take care! The money, the bonds!
+My head, Adrian, my head!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+A HIDDEN SAFE DEPOSIT
+
+
+Upon reaching the New York railway station, Adrian had stopped long
+enough to send his mother an explanatory telegram, so that she might
+not worry over his sudden disappearance. He had also urged her in it,
+to "make a good visit, since he would be at home to look after his
+father."
+
+In this new consideration for the feelings of others he was now
+thankful that Mrs. Wadislaw was away. "She gets so anxious and
+frightened over father's 'spells,' though he always comes out of them
+well," he reflected; then did what he remembered to have seen her do
+on similar occasions. He helped his father to the lounge, loosened his
+collar, bathed his head, and administered a few drops of a restorative
+kept near at hand.
+
+In a few moments the banker sat up again and remarked:
+
+"It is queer that no doctor can stop these attacks. I never quite lose
+consciousness, or rather I seem to be somebody else. I have an impulse
+to do things I would not do at other times--yet what these things are
+I do not clearly remember when the attack passes. But I always feel
+better for some days after them. For that reason I do not dread them
+as I would, otherwise. Strange, that a man has to lose his senses in
+order to regain them! A paradox, but a fact."
+
+"Do you have them as often as formerly?"
+
+"Oftener, I think. They are irregular. I may feel one coming on again
+within a few hours or it may not be for weeks. The trouble is that I
+may be stricken some time more severely and fall senseless in some
+unsafe place."
+
+"Don't fear about that, father. I am at home again, you know, and
+shall keep you well in sight. If you would only give up business and
+go away to Europe, or somewhere. Take a long rest. You might recover
+entirely then and enjoy a ripe old age."
+
+"I can't afford it, lad. If those stolen bonds--but what's the use of
+recalling them? Your talk has brought my loss so freshly before me. I
+wish you hadn't asked me about it. However, it's done, and it's late.
+Let's get to bed. I must be early at the bank, to-morrow. The builders
+are coming to look things over and estimate on the cost of safe
+deposit vaults in the basement. Ours is one of the oldest buildings in
+the city and every inch of space has increased in value since it was
+put up. The waste room of that basement should bring us in a princely
+income, if the inspector will give the permit to construct the vaults.
+My head must be clear in the morning, if ever, and I must rest now.
+Good-night."
+
+Adrian saw his father to his room and sought his own, resolving to be
+present at the next day's interview with the builders, and to give
+the banker his own most watchful care. But his thoughts soon returned
+to the startling knowledge he had gained concerning Margot's history,
+and when he fell asleep, at last, it was to dream of a prison on an
+island, of his mother in a cell, and other most distressing scenes. So
+that he awoke unrefreshed, and in greater perplexity than ever as to
+how he could find Margot or be of any help to Number 526.
+
+But Mr. Wadislaw seemed brighter than usual, and was almost jovial in
+his discussion of the proposed alterations of his property.
+
+"You will be a rich man, Adrian, a very rich man, as I figure it.
+Money is the main thing. Get money and--and--keep it;" he added with a
+cautious glance around the breakfast room.
+
+But there was nobody except the old butler to hear this worldly advice
+and he had always been hearing it. Adrian, to whom it was given, heard
+it not at all. He was thinking of his island friends and wondering how
+he should find them. However, when they reached the bank, he rallied
+his wandering thoughts and gave strict attention to the talk between
+the banker and the builders, trying to impress upon his mind the dry
+facts and figures which meant so much to them.
+
+"You say that this wall will have to be torn down. To reach bottom
+rock. Why, sir, that wall has stood--Adrian, what is that racket in
+the outer office? Stop it. The porter should not allow---- But, sir,
+that wall is as thick as the safe built into it. I mean----"
+
+Mr. Wadislaw passed his hand across his forehead and Adrian, seeing
+this familiar sign of impending trouble, felt that his place was at
+his father's side rather than in quelling that slight disturbance in
+the adjoining room. He took his stand behind the banker's chair and
+rested his hand upon it.
+
+Mr. Wadislaw cast a hurried, appealing glance upward, and the son
+smiled and nodded. The contractor moved about the place, tapping the
+walls, the floor, and the great chimney beside the safe; pausing at
+this spot and listening, tapping afresh, listening again, with a
+marked interest growing in his face.
+
+But nobody noticed this, for, suddenly, the door slid open and there
+stood in the aperture a girl with wonderful, flowing hair and a face
+strangely stern and defiant.
+
+"Margot!"
+
+But it was not at Adrian she looked. At last she was in the presence
+of the man who had ruined her father. And--he knew her! Aye, knew her,
+though they two had never met before and, as yet, she had spoken no
+accusing word. For he had sunk back in his seat, his face white, his
+eyes staring, his jaw dropped. To him she was an apparition, one risen
+from the dead to confront him with the darkest hour of all his past,
+when a broken-hearted wife had kneeled to him, begging her husband's
+life. Yet it was broad daylight and he wide awake.
+
+"Are you Malachi Wadislaw?"
+
+"I--I--thought you were dead!"
+
+"No, not dead. Alive and come at last to make you right the wrong you
+did my father. To make you open his prison doors and set him free."
+
+"Are you Philip Romeyn's wife? Her hair--his eyes--I--I--am
+confused--Adrian!"
+
+"Yes, father. I am here. Margot!"
+
+Her glance passed from the father to the son but there was no
+relenting kindness in it. When the young suffer it is profoundly, and
+the inmost depths of Margot's nature were stirred by this first sight
+of her father's enemy.
+
+"Philip Romeyn's wife lies in the grave, whither your persecution sent
+her. I am her daughter and his, come to make you do a tardy justice.
+To make you lead me to the place where you have hidden the bonds, the
+gold, you said he stole! For if stealing was done it was by your own
+hands, not his."
+
+"Margot--MARGOT! This is my father!" cried Adrian, aghast.
+
+"Yes, Adrian, and my father--my father--wears a convict's garb this
+day because of yours!"
+
+"No, no! No, no. I tried to save him, but he would not save himself! I
+begged him, almost on my knees I begged him, the little shaver, to
+confess and get the benefit of that. But he would not. There was no
+hope for him from the beginning. None. They found me all but dead. The
+money gone. He by me, the steel rod in his hand with which we used to
+fasten the--that very safe. I---- Why, I can see it all as if it were
+to-day, even though they lifted me for dead, and found him standing,
+dazed and speechless. When they questioned him about the money he
+said: 'Ask Malachi Wadislaw. I never touched it.' That was all. But
+they proved it against him. I was dead--almost--and I was beggared.
+Beggared!" his voice rose to a scream, "by that brave little shaver
+who had once--once saved my life. Robbed and murdered--his benefactor,
+who had made him rich and prosperous. Should he not suffer? Aye,
+forever!"
+
+The silence that followed this speech was intense. The builder ceased
+his inquisitive tapping and listened spellbound. Old Joe stood rigidly
+behind the girl whom he had followed. Adrian scarcely breathed.
+Accused and accuser faced one another, motionless.
+
+Then: "Where--was--it?" demanded Margot. "Show me--the place."
+
+"Here. Here, in this very sanctum to which nobody had the entrance but
+us two. There--is the monster safe that was robbed. With such another
+rod of steel"--he pointed to a bar resting above the safe--"was I
+struck--here." His hand touched for an instant a deep scar on his
+temple and an involuntary shudder passed over the girl's frame.
+
+But her face did not change nor the defiance of her eyes grow less.
+She moved a step forward, and, as if to make way for her, the builder,
+also, stepped aside. As he did so his hammer caught upon the little
+ledge of the chimney projection which he had been testing and whose
+hollow sound had aroused his curiosity. The small slab of marble
+slipped and fell, though it had seemingly been securely plastered in
+the wall. It left an aperture of a few inches, and the contractor
+ejaculated:
+
+"Pshaw! That's queer. Must have been loose, I never saw just such a
+hole in such a place. I'm sorry, sir, yet----" He turned to address
+the banker but paused, amazed. What had he done?
+
+The effect of that trivial accident upon the owner of the building was
+marvelous. He sprang to his feet, clasped his head with his hands, and
+gazed upon that tiny opening with the fascination of horror. For a
+moment it seemed as if his staring eyes would start from their sockets
+and he gasped in his effort to breathe.
+
+"Father! What is it? What ails you?"
+
+But the distraught man tossed off his son's arm like one who needed
+no support, and to whom each second of delay was unendurable.
+
+"Look, look! What they told me--I believed--look, look!" then he
+swayed and Adrian caught him.
+
+But Margot's anxious love leaped to a swift comprehension of what
+merely amazed the others.
+
+"That hole! The bonds--the bonds are in that hole! That's what he
+means. Look, look!"
+
+Incredulous, but impelled by her insistence, the builder peered into
+the opening. It was too small to admit his head and his gaze could
+pass no further than its opposite side.
+
+"There's nothing there, miss, but a hole, as he said."
+
+She tossed him aside, not noticing, and thrust her arm down as far as
+it would reach.
+
+"A stick, a string, something--quick! It is deep."
+
+Nobody moved, till she turned upon the Indian.
+
+"For the master, Joe! a string and a weight. Quick, quick!"
+
+The empty-handed son of the forest was the man who filled her need. A
+new, well-leaded fishing line that had caught his fancy, passing down
+the street, came from his pocket. She seized, uncoiled, and dropped it
+down the hole.
+
+"Oh! it is so deep. But we must get to the bottom. We must, even if I
+tear that wall down with my own hands. You'll help me, Joe, dear Joe,
+won't you? For the master?"
+
+He moved forward, instantly, but Adrian interposed. He was colorless
+with excitement yet his voice had the ring of hope and expectation, as
+he bent and looked into Malachi Wadislaw's eyes.
+
+"Is she right, father? Do you hear me? Is there anything in that small
+place?"
+
+"I remember--I remember. The bonds. The bonds are safe. Always--always
+keep your money in a hidden----"
+
+"God forbid!" groaned the lad. Then to the builder, "Get your men.
+Tear down that wall. Quick. A man's life is at stake, or more than
+life--his honor."
+
+The contractor hesitated, then remarked:
+
+"Well, it won't weaken the building, as I see; and we had decided on
+the work. It would have to come down anyway."
+
+He stepped to the street and summoned a waiting workman. They were
+skilled and labored rapidly, with little scattering of dust or mortar,
+though Margot would not move aside even from that, but gave them room
+for working only, standing with gaze riveted on that deepening shaft.
+A mere shell of single bricks, plastered and painted as the remaining
+wall, had hidden it; and its depth was little below the thick-beamed
+floor.
+
+At last the workman stood up.
+
+"I think I see the bottom, sir, and there seems to be stuff in it.
+Would you like to feel, young man?"
+
+"No, no! I! It is I--to me the right--to find them!" cried Margot,
+flinging herself between, and downward on the floor.
+
+[Illustration: SHE STOOPED AND FLUNG THEM OUT]
+
+"But, Margot, little girl, don't be so sure. It's scarcely
+probable----" began Adrian, compassionately, shrinking from sight of
+her bitter disappointment, should disappointment come. Alas! it would
+be almost as great to him, and whether a glad or sorry one he could
+not yet realize.
+
+"His face! Look at your father's face. That tells the story. The bonds
+are there, and 'tis Philip Romeyn's daughter shall bring them to the
+light."
+
+Indeed, the banker's expression confirmed her faith. Its frenzied
+eagerness had given place to a satisfied expectation, and a normal
+color tinged his cheeks. But he still watched intently, saying
+nothing.
+
+"Catch them, Adrian, catch them! But hold them fast, the horrible,
+accursed things!"
+
+One after one, stooping, the exultant daughter lifted and flung them
+out. The folded papers seemingly so worthless but of such value;
+the little canvas bags of gold; the precious documents and vouchers,
+hidden from all other men by one unhappy man, in his miserly
+aberration. The price of fifteen years of agony and shame. Now,
+fifteen years to be forgotten, and honor restored.
+
+In that far past Philip Romeyn's story had been simple and it had been
+true. He had been unaccountably anxious and had risen in the night and
+gone to the bank. He believed that the safe had not been locked,
+though he had been assured it should be by Mr. Wadislaw, the only
+other person who had a key to it. To his surprise he had found the
+banker in his office, but in dire mishap. He was lying on the floor,
+unconscious, bleeding from a wound upon his temple. The safe was open,
+empty. The steel bar which, at night, was padlocked upon it for extra
+security lay on the floor, beside the senseless man. Mr. Romeyn had
+picked this up and was standing with it in his hand, horrified and
+half-stupefied by the shocking affair, when the watchman, discovering
+light and noise, had entered and found them. It was his hasty,
+accusing voice which started the cry of robbery and murder; and the
+circumstances had seemed so aggravated, the circumstantial evidence so
+strong, that the judge had imposed the heaviest penalty within his
+power. The hypothesis that Mr. Wadislaw had himself put the contents
+of the safe away, had even perverted them to his own use; and that he
+had injured himself by falling against the sharp corner of the safe's
+heavy and open door, had been set aside as too trivial for
+consideration.
+
+The hypothesis had been correct, the circumstantial evidence
+incorrect; yet in the name of justice, the latter had prevailed.
+
+"Count them! have you counted them, Adrian?"
+
+"Yes, Margot. It is all here. The very sum of which I have so often
+heard. Thank God, that it is found!"
+
+"My father! Come, Joe, we're going to my father."
+
+"And I go with you. In my father's name and to begin his lifelong
+reparation."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+THE MELODY AND MYSTERY OF LIFE
+
+
+Swift the way and joyous now, that same road over which Adrian had
+journeyed on the day before, so grudgingly. Yet not half swift enough
+that through express by which they left the city limits for the little
+town of Sing Sing, or as would have better suited Indian Joe, of
+Ossining. Scene of so many tragedies and broken hearts; to be, to-day,
+a scene of unutterable gladness.
+
+Margot's eyes were on the flying landscape, counting the lessening
+landmarks as one counts off the stitches of a tedious seam, and with
+each mile of progress her impatience growing.
+
+"Oh! Adrian! shall we never be there! I can hardly breathe. My heart
+beats so--I cannot wait, I cannot!"
+
+In the seat behind them Joe still carefully held the old-fashioned
+shawl and bonnet, which Angelique had decided her young traveler
+should--but never would--wear. Her hair was out of that decorous plait
+which had been commanded, and there had been neither time nor friend
+to substitute new clothes for old. Therefore, it was just as she
+looked in the woodland that Margot looked now when she was first to
+meet her father's eyes; and neither she, nor even Adrian, cared one
+whit for the curious glances which scrutinized her unusual,
+comfortable attire.
+
+What were clothes? Money could soon buy those, if they were needed,
+and there would be money abundant, Adrian thought, fingering the
+"specimens" which the girl desired old Joseph to produce from that
+wonderful pocket of his, which held so few, yet just the very things
+that were important.
+
+"Copper, Margot. I'm sure of it. I have a friend, a man who deals in
+mining stocks, and I've seen samples at his office which do not look
+as pure to me as this."
+
+"These pieces came from the deep cave under the island. Where I was
+that day during the great storm, the day you came to us. I don't see
+why there shouldn't be plenty of the metal there, for we're in nearly
+the same latitude as the copper regions of the great lakes. I hope we
+may find it in large enough quantities to pay for getting it out."
+
+Adrian was surprised and not wholly pleased by what seemed a mercenary
+taint upon her fine character, but was ashamed of his momentary
+misjudgment when she added:
+
+"Because, you see, we've suffered so much for money's sake that we
+want to use it ourselves to make other people happy. I know what I
+will do with it, if I ever have much, or even little."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"I will use it to defend the wrongfully imprisoned. To help the poor
+men when they come out, even if they have been wicked once. To
+comfort the families of those who suffer disgrace and poverty. To
+forward justice--justice. Oh! Adrian, how far now?"
+
+"Fifteen minutes, now. Only fifteen minutes!"
+
+"They will never pass! They are longer than the fifteen years of my
+ignorance, when I didn't know I had a father. My father. My father."
+
+Over and over, she said the words softly, caressingly, as if she could
+never have enough of all they meant to her; and the listening lad
+asked once, a trifle warningly:
+
+"Are you not at all afraid, Margot, that this unknown father will be
+different from your anticipations? Remember, though so close of kin,
+you are still strangers."
+
+"Why, Adrian! My mother loved him and my uncle. I love him, too,
+unknowing; but I tell you now, this minute, if I found him all that
+was bad and repulsive, I should still love him and all the more. So
+love him that he would grow good again and forget all the evil he
+must have seen in that evil place. For he is my father, my father."
+
+"Have no fear, I only meant to try you. He is all that you dream and
+more. He has the noblest face I ever looked on; yes, not even
+excepting your uncle's."
+
+"What? you--have seen him?"
+
+"Yes. Yesterday;" at which she sat in silent wonder till he said: "Now
+come. We're there!"
+
+When they stepped out at the final station Adrian called for the
+swiftest horses waiting possible fares, and burst in upon his sister's
+presence with the demand, almost breathlessly spoken:
+
+"Number 526, at once, Kate. This is Margot---- Ah! mother! Margot! The
+money's found--Number 526--quick!"
+
+The excitement was all his by then. The girl to whom this moment was
+so much more eventful stood pale and quiet, with a luminous joy in her
+blue eyes that was more pathetic than tears.
+
+"Adrian, are you crazy? Upon my word, I almost believe you are!
+Running away as you did last night and coming back again to-day, in
+this wild fashion. What do you mean? Who is this--this young person?
+And what in the world do you, can you, possibly, want of Number 526?"
+
+He paid no attention to her many questions, nor even to his mother who
+clutched his arm in extreme agitation. He had caught the tones of a
+violin played softly, tenderly, and oh! so sadly.
+
+"Yes, that's Number 526, since you wish to see him, though it's quite
+against the rules and--he's practicing with his men----"
+
+"Come, Margot. Come."
+
+The player was in the little alcove behind the screen and palms, and
+did not even look up as the two entered his presence, for his own soul
+had floated far away from that dread place, on the strains of that
+music which no prison bars could confine.
+
+"Father!"
+
+[Illustration: "MY FATHER! I HAVE COME"]
+
+The music ceased, but only for an instant. Once the player had heard a
+voice like that--clear, sweet, exquisitely modulated. The voice of the
+wife he had loved, silent in death these many years. But the tone had
+been sufficient to stir his soul to even deeper harmonies: and he
+stood there forgetful of his shaven head, his prison stripes, once
+more a man among men.
+
+"Father! My father! I have come! Margot, baby Margot! Come to set you
+free!"
+
+Her arms were about his neck, her wet face pressed close to his, her
+tender kisses poured upon his lips, his dazed, unseeing eyes, his
+trembling shoulders.
+
+Then he put out his hand and held her from him, that he might the
+better see her fairness, hear her marvelous story--told in few words,
+and comprehend what was the merciful, the Heaven-sent bliss that had
+come to him.
+
+"Cecily! Margot! My daughter with her mother's face! Free! Free! Oh!
+God, support me!"
+
+The indomitable courage which suffering had had no power to weaken
+failed in this supreme moment; and as, in his hours of darkness, he
+had clung to his music for sustenance so he turned to it now. He
+pressed his violin to his shoulder, leaned his cheek upon it, and from
+its quivering strings drew out in melody the story of his fifteen
+years. All the bitterness, the sadness, the sweetness; and that
+exalted faith which had made the mystery of his life, and his shame,
+almost divine.
+
+Blinded by their own tears, one by one, the others left them, and when
+the last strain ended in a burst of joyous victory, there were but two
+to hear it--parent and child.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Adrian watched the train that bore them homeward roll away, with a
+heart both heavy and glad. In fancy he could see them reach that
+journey's end; with brother clasping the hand of brother, the silent,
+wonderful forest receiving them into its restful solitude. He could
+see that great room which had waited for its occupant so many years,
+and which was now all aglow from its flame-filled fireplace, and
+redolent with wild flowers. He could see the wide couch drawn up
+before the hearth and a toil-worn man, who had not rested before in
+fifteen years, lying there with grateful, adoring eyes fixed upon that
+pictured Face of The Man of Sorrows.
+
+There was a girl in the room, moving everywhere in needless, tender
+care that nothing should be wanting. As if anything ever could be
+wanting where Margot was! The innocent, great-hearted child of nature,
+whose love no obstacle could overcome, and who hesitated at no danger
+for love's sweet sake.
+
+
+
+
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+New England college. The trustful and unbounded love of the heroine
+for her mother and the mutual and self-sacrificing devotion of the
+mother to the daughter are so beautifully interwoven with the varied
+occurrences and exciting incidents of college life as to leave a most
+wholesome impression upon the mind and heart of the reader.
+
+
+_Two Wyoming Girls_
+
+_By Mrs. Carrie L. Marshall Illustrated by Ida Waugh_
+
+Two girls, thrown upon their own resources, are obliged to "prove up"
+their homestead claim. This would be no very serious matter were it
+not for the persecution of an unscrupulous neighbor, who wishes to
+appropriate the property to his own use. The girls endure many
+privations, have a number of thrilling adventures, but finally secure
+their claim and are generally well rewarded for their courage and
+perseverance.
+
+
+_The Girl Ranchers_
+
+_By Mrs. Carrie L. Marshal Illustrated by Ida Waugh_
+
+A story of life on a sheep ranch in Montana. The dangers and
+difficulties incident to such a life are vividly pictured, and the
+interest in the story is enhanced by the fact that the ranch is
+managed almost entirely by two young girls. By their energy and pluck,
+coupled with courage, kindness, and unselfishness they succeed in
+disarming the animosity of the neighboring cattle ranchers, and their
+enterprise eventually results successfully.
+
+
+_A Maid at King Alfred's Court_
+
+_By Lucy Foster Madison Illustrated by Ida Waugh_
+
+This is a strong and well told tale of the 9th century. It is a
+faithful portrayal of the times, and is replete with historical
+information. The trying experiences through which the little heroine
+passes, until she finally becomes one of the great Alfred's family,
+are most entertainingly set forth. Nothing short of a careful study of
+the history of the period will give so clear a knowledge of this
+little known age as the reading of this book.
+
+
+_A Maid of the First Century_
+
+_By Lucy Foster Madison Illustrated by Ida Waugh_
+
+A little maid of Palestine goes in search of her father, who for
+political reasons, has been taken as a slave to Rome. She is
+shipwrecked in the Mediterranean, but is rescued by a passing vessel
+bound for Britain. Eventually an opportunity is afforded her for going
+to Rome, where, after many trying and exciting experiences, she and
+her father are united and his liberty is restored to him.
+
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors;
+otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the
+author's words and intent.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 31655.txt or 31655.zip *******
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