n he straightened up his
tall, somewhat stooping figure. He flung his lean shoulders back, and
opened his arms wide. And as he did so he laughed in the pleasant
fashion which Nancy had grown accustomed to.

He was the picture of complete health. His dark face was pale. His black
hair and sparse beard were untouched by any sign of the passage of
years. There was not an ounce of superfluous flesh under the curiously
clerical garments he lived in.

"Why, right away, child," he said, with simple confidence. "I'll just
need to wait for a brief 'freeze-up' to get through the mud around
Sachigo. Once on the highlands inside there'll be snow and ice for six
weeks or more. I told Sternford this morning I was ready to pull out.
You see, thanks to you I've cheated the folk who reckoned to silence me.
I'm well, and strong, and the boys of the forest are--needing me. Every
day I remain now I'll be getting soft under the unfailing kindness of
my nurse."

Nancy poured out the tea. There were two cups on the tray and the man
was swift to notice it. She smiled up at him.

"Won't you sit down?" she urged. "You see, I've brought a cup for
myself. I--I want to have a long talk with you. I, too, have got to
'pull my freight.'"

Father Adam obeyed. His dark eyes were deeply observant as he surveyed
the pretty face with its red glory of hair. That which was passing in
his mind found no betrayal. But his thought had suddenly leapt, and he
waited.

Nancy passed him his cup and set the toast within his reach. Then she
pulled up a chair for herself and sat down before the tea tray.

"Yes," she went on, "that's why I brought my cup. I must get away." She
smiled a little wistfully. "My imprisonment is over. Mr. Sternford set
me free long ago, but--well, anyway I'm going now, and that's why I
wanted to talk to you."

She seemed to find the whole thing an effort. But as the man's dark eyes
remained regarding her, and no word of his came to help her, she was
forced to go on.

"You know my story," she said. "You've heard it all from Mr. Sternford.
I know that. You told me so, didn't you?"

The man inclined his dark head.

"Yes," he said. "I know your story--all of it."

"Yes." The girl's tea remained untouched. Suddenly she raised one
delicate hand and passed her finger tips across her forehead. It was a
gesture of uncertainty. Then, quite suddenly, it fell back into her lap,
and, in a moment, her hands were tightly clasped. "Oh, I best