e
to leave our bones to whiten in the forest wilderness.

You'll laugh at all these vowings and handstrikings, I dare say, and
protest there was a deal of such fustian heroics in your doddering old
chronicler's day.

Mayhap there was. But, my dears, I would you might remember as you laugh
that we of that simple-hearted elder time lived by some half-century
nearer to that age of chivalry you dote on--in the story-books. Also, I
would you might mingle with your merriment a little of the saving grace
of charity; letting it hint that, perchance, these you call "heroics"
were but the free, untrammeled folk-speech of that sincerer natural
heart which you have learned to silence and suppress. For I dare affirm
that now, as then and always, there will be some spark of the Promethean
fire in every heart of man or maid, else this would indeed be a sorry
world to live in.

So, as I say, we four struck hands anew on the desperate venture; and,
after carefully burying the fire to the end that it might not betray us
while we slept, we burrowed in the nearest leaf bed to snatch an hour
or two of rest before the toils and hazards of the chase should begin
afresh.

In the thick darkness following hard upon the douting of the fire, I saw
not who my nearest bed-fellow might be. But ere I slept a hand was laid
on my shoulder, and a voice that I knew well, said: "Are you waking yet,
Jack?"

I said I was; and at that my poor lad would blurt out all his sorrow and
shame for the mad fit of despair that had set him on to rail and curse
me.

"You will say with good reason that I am but a sorry jockey for a
friend--to fly out at you like a madman as I did," he added, by way of
fitting epilogue; and to this I gave him the answer he wished, bidding
him never let a thought of it spoil him of the rest he needed.

"The debt of obligation and forgiveness is all upon the other side, as
you will some day know, Dick, my lad," said I, hovering, as a coward
always will, upon the innuendo-edge of the confession he will never
make.

He mistook the pointing of this protest, as he was bound to.

"Never say that, Jack. 'Twould be a dog-in-the-manger trick in me to
blame you for loving her. And since you speak of debts, I do protest I
owe you somewhat, too. With so fair a chance to cut a clean swath in
that fair-weather month at Appleby Hundred, another man would have left
me scant gleanings in the field, I'll be bound; whereas--"

"Damn you!" I bro