ed; but the strategy
of his practice hour in Adam's room he was forced to abandon, heartsick
for Joan and the future. His battle for her he knew had been in vain.
Useless further to bombard with truth that silent, inscrutable Caliban
upstairs, whose fiendish power to drive him to his notebook when he
chose in turn to tell the truth, seemed uncanny. And it was practice
enough to tell the truth to Joan! God grant, in all sincerity, that he
might come to justify the faith in the dear eyes of her.

He made one last heroic effort to break his chain of thraldom. After
an interval of bitter insubordination which ended each night in
surrender, he set his teeth and vowed by every sacred thing he knew
that to-morrow night, summons or no summons, he would not go to the
sitting room of Adam Craig. He would secretly leave the farmhouse at
dusk with Joan and when Hughie knocked on his bedroom door, ready to
say that the old man was lonely and in pain, he would be safe and
serene in the cabin in the pines. Was it fated to be his refuge too?

Torrential rain woke him in the morning. Kenny stared out at the wet
valley in tragic unbelief. It simply could not be; for he wanted a
dusk flecked with stars. But the rain gave no promise of abating and
late that afternoon he altered the detail of his rebellion.
Fortunately there were other ways. When the dusk closed in and the old
man watched the clock and waited, he would go boldly downstairs to the
old piano and register his rebellion in music that Adam Craig could
hear. He would spend his evening openly with Joan; he would go through
fire and water; he would ride the whirlwind and direct the storm but
what this time he would assure his emancipation.

Instinct had warned him to abandon, in his hours with Adam Craig,
certain picturesque forms of attire in which he delighted. To-night,
whistling with a feeling of gayety and unrestraint, he rummaged his
trunks, selecting his clothing with fastidious attention to minor
detail and held the lamp high at the end to afford a better glimpse of
the handsome Irishman smiling back at him from the mirror in the
bureau. No doubt of it, give a fashionable tailor disposed to be
experimental, his head and enough money on account and he could create
a dash and piquancy worth while. Always remembering that such a
creative artisan was fortunate to find a suitable contrast of shoulder
and hip to wear his inspiration.

Kenny in the best of spirit