ngs.' The cabin is my own work."

"What! do you mean to say that you built it?"

"Yes, little by little. At first it was hardly more than a rude shelter,
but I gradually enlarged it and beautified it, trying always, as you
say, to keep it in harmony with its surroundings."

"Then you are an artist and a genius."

"But that is not the only work I did during the first months of my life
here. Come with me and I will show you."

He led the way along the trail, farther up the mountain, till a sharp
turn hid him from view. Darrell, following closely, came upon the
entrance of an incline shaft leading into the mountain. Just within he
saw Mr. Britton lighting two candles which he had taken from a rocky
ledge; one of these he handed to Darrell, and then proceeded down the
shaft.

"A mine!" Darrell exclaimed.

"Yes, and a valuable one, were it only accessible so that it could be
developed without enormous expense; but that is out of the question."

The underground workings were not extensive, but the vein was one of
exceptional richness. When they emerged later Darrell brought with him
some specimens and a tiny nugget of gold as souvenirs.

"The first season," said Mr. Britton, "I worked the mine and built the
cabin as a shelter for the coming winter. The winter months I spent in
hunting and trapping when I could go out in the mountains, and
hibernated during the long storms. Early in the spring I began mining
again and worked the following season. By that time I was ready to start
forth into the world, so I gave Peter an interest in the mine, and he
works it from time to time, doing little more than the representation
each year."

As they descended towards the cabin Mr. Britton continued: "I have shown
you this that you may the better understand the story I have to tell you
before I leave you as sole occupant of the Hermitage."

_Chapter XXVI_

JOHN BRITTON'S STORY

Evening found Darrell and his friend seated on the rocks watching the
sunset. Mr. Britton was unusually silent, and Darrell, through a sort of
intuitive sympathy, refrained from breaking the silence. At last, as the
glow was fading from earth and sky, Mr. Britton said,--

"I have chosen this day and this hour to tell you my story, because,
being the anniversary of my wedding, it seemed peculiarly appropriate.
Twenty-eight years ago, at sunset, on such a royal day as this, we were
married--my love and I."

He spoke with an unnatural calmnes