that beset his way; but never with the
tingling sensation of new-found happiness that now filled his whole
being.

As he stood there in the stillness some distance away from the outer
walls of the grim stockade Owen seemed to feel that the spirit of his
gentle mother was with him again, and he knew she would approve of the
resolve he had made since learning about the cousin, of whose existence
up to now he had never known.

And while he stood there a star swept like a glorious meteor across the
wide expanse of the night sky, filling his soul with awe, for it seemed
to him as though he had thus been given a sign from heaven that his
course met with approval there among the shining ones above.

Long he stood there and pondered, not that he had need to take himself
to task, because his course was already mapped out, but the gates of
the past had been opened by these discoveries, and he could in
imagination see his mother walking about these scenes she had so often
described to him, a fair young girl, with golden hair and blue eyes, so
like the cherub who was doubtless still in the loving arms of her doting
grandfather, the stern czar of the Hudson Bay post.

So had it all come out right, events being guided by some mysterious
power that shaped them to the best end, and Owen was satisfied.

When he finally turned about, since the hour was getting very late, and
started to once more enter through the gates which would soon be closed,
he heaved a sigh, but not of anxiety or grief; rather did his spirit
rejoice that the long battle with his better nature was over at last and
that the right had won out.

How wonderful were the ways of Providence after all, and how small must
the plans of mortal man seem in comparison; he had been brought back to
the post really against his will, and yet see what had come of it;
already had he been enabled by his presence to save the sweet child from
falling into the hands of her unscrupulous father, and thus won the
heart of the old factor as he could have done in no other way.

And Owen had not a single regret as he turned in at the gate, and headed
for that corner of the stockade where the tent that was to serve them as
a shelter had been erected earlier in the evening.

CHAPTER XX.

THE TENT DWELLERS.

Somehow Cuthbert could not get to sleep.

He was constantly thinking of Owen and his fortunes, weaving castles in
the air that might be fulfilled, providing the sturdy you