at him gratefully, but the hope was too far off to give
much present comfort to him. He walked slowly back to the retreat
Snorro had made for him, wondering how he was to get the winter over,
wondering if Margaret would see him, wondering how best to gain her
forgiveness, longing to see her face but not daring to approach her
without some preparation for the meeting. For though she had come back
to life, it had been very slowly. Snorro said that she never left the
house, that she was still wan and weak, and that on the rare
occasions when he had been sent to Peter's house, she had not spoken
to him.

After his interview with Tulloch, he fell into a sound sleep again.
When he awoke the day was well begun, and Peter was at the store.
Looking through the cracks in the rude flooring, he could see him
carefully counting his cash, and comparing his balance. Snorro, for a
wonder, was quite idle, and Peter finally looked at him, and said
fretfully:

"There is this and that to do. What art thou standing still for?"

"A man may stand still sometimes. I feel not like work to-day."

"Art thou sick, then?"

"Who can tell? It may be sickness."

He stood thoughtfully by the big fire and moved not. Peter went on
with his figures in a fidgety way. Presently Tulloch entered. The
banker's visits were rare ones, and Peter was already suspicious of
them. But he laid down his pen, and with scrupulous civility said,
"Good morning to thee, Tulloch--Deacon Tulloch, I should say. Wilt
thou buy or sell aught this morning?"

"Good morning, Fae. I came to thee for news. Where is thy son Jan
staying?"

Peter's face darkened. "I know nothing at all about Jan Vedder. If he
is at sea, he is out of thy world; if he is in harbor, he will be at
Ragon Torr's, or on board The Solan."

"The Solan hath gone to pieces on the Quarr Rocks."

Just for a moment a thrill of sinful triumph made Peter's brown face
turn scarlet, but he checked it instantly. "I heard not that," he said
gravely.

"Only Jan escaped--ship and crew went to the bottom."

Peter shut his mouth tight, he was afraid to trust himself to speak.

"But Jan did his very best, no man could have done more. I saw him
last night. He is ill and broken down by his trouble. Put out thy hand
to him. Thou do that, and it will be a good thing, Fae."

"Thou mind thy own affairs, Deacon Tulloch."

"Well then it is my affair to tell thee, that there is a time for
anger and a time for forgiven