awakened in a new
atmosphere, where even the people are different. It's--it's quite an
inspiration."

Jock kept the hand, delicate as a woman's, in his strong, rough palm.

"You're somewhat of an eye-opener yourself," he said. "I've always held
that mixing is learning on both sides. As long as you've got strength
and inclination to stretch out, you'll always find something stretching
out to you.

"And now as to that proposition of yours a time back, about bunking here
for a time. I'm agreed, with this understanding: I've got a devil of a
disposition, but it ain't ever going to be no better and them as don't
like it can find new quarters. I came here over ten years ago to indulge
my disposition, and I'm going to indulge it. When I don't want folks, I
take to the forest, or, if the weather is bad, I shut and lock my door.
If, after knowing this, you care to take that room I gave you this
afternoon, it's yours for as long as you want it. I like you. I'm sudden
in my likes, but I don't like your hell-less doctrine. I advise you not
to turn that loose in St. Ange. We're none too good now, but if a
soothing syrup was poured out, them as valued their lives would have to
navigate to the Solitudes."

"I don't believe it!" cried Drew. "As God hears me, I believe it is just
the place to try it."

"Oh! Get to bed." Jock stood up and laughed good-naturedly. "Go to bed
and get up steam for to-morrer. When you see the whole collection you'll
warm up your ideas. You're a terrible plucky kid to trust your own soul
on a trifling little raft like this religion of yours. You better not
overload it with more souls, though; the risk's too tremendous.

"Go sleep on your fairy story, boy. I don't see for the life of me how
your health could have broken studying such a mild mixture as that. You
must have been real run down at the start. But never mind, don't lay the
laugh up against me, kid, I ain't enjoyed myself so much in ten years as
I have to-night."

The two parted the best of friends. Drew fell quickly into a deep,
undisturbed sleep, but Filmer tossed about till morning. The grim Past
gripped him; he pulled the flask, that stood ever ready, nearer; but
the cowardice of the act swayed him, and he flung the bottle to the
floor.

Then he swore, and tried to sleep again, but the Spectre jeered him.

"The powers they have in themselves." The words struck again and again
on Filmer's aching brain.

What powers? Oh! he had had powe