s only one; and the rest are the same as your face in
looking-glasses--one, two, three, plenty. You see?"

"Yes," said Sir Duke, "reflections of the real sun." Parfaite tapped him
on the arm. "So: you have the thing. Well, this man is not himself--he
have left himself where he seen his bad times. It makes your flesh creep
sometimes when you see the sun dogs in the sky--this man did the same.
You shall see him tonight."

Sir Duke looked at the little half-breed, and wondered that the product
of so crude a civilisation should be so little crude in his imagination.
"What happened?" he asked.

"Nothing happened. But the man could not sleep. He sit before the fire,
his eyes moving here and there, and sometimes he shiver. Well, I watch
him. In the morning we leave him there, and he has been there ever
since--the only man at the Fort. The Indians do not go; they fear him;
but there is no harm in him. He is old now. In an hour we'll be there."

The sun was hanging, with one shoulder up like a great red peering
dwarf, on the far side of a long hillock of stunted pines, when the
three arrived at the Fort. The yard was still as Parfaite had described
it--full of rank grass, through which one path trailed to the open door.
On the stockade walls grass grew, as though where men will not live like
men Nature labours to smother. The shutters of the window were not open;
light only entered through narrow openings in them, made for the needs
of possible attacks by Indians in the far past. One would have sworn
that anyone dwelling there was more like the dead than the living. Yet
it had, too, something of the peace of the lonely graveyard. There was
no one in the Fort; but there were signs of life--skins piled here
and there, a few utensils, a bench, a hammock for food swung from the
rafters, a low fire burning in the chimney, and a rude spear stretched
on the wall.

"Sure, the place gives you shivers!" said Shon. "Open go these windows.
Put wood on the fire, Parfaite; cook the meat that we've brought, and
no other, me boy; and whin we're filled wid a meal and the love o' God,
bring in your Lost Man, or Sun Dog, or whativer's he by name or nature."

While Parfaite and Shon busied themselves, Lawless wandered out with his
gun, and, drawn on by the clear joyous air of the evening, walked along
a path made by the same feet that had travelled the yard of the Fort.
He followed it almost unconsciously at first, thinking of the strange
his