* * * *

There is no couple better beloved in all that mountain-region than David
Cabarreux and his wife. They live on the farm. Dave lies in the fern a
good part of every day smoking and planning, but as his wife is
satisfied that his dream is one of love for her, she is content:
besides, she wishes him to rest, being careful of his health and in
constant terror lest he may fall a victim to cerebral disease from
overwork, which is so common an ailment in the North. Oats and corundum
both came according to prophecy. The Cabarreux property is turning out
better than any other in that part of the State, both as to soil and
mineral products: there is some talk of a gold-mine, indeed, lately.

"And Bel," her father tells the squire, "will find out the latest
improvements in working it. Bel can bring the best profit out of any
ground, however poor. Even out of Cabarreux himself."

Mr. Calhoun is a little prejudiced still against his Southern
son-in-law.

* * * * *

Peter Marmaduke Boyer is dead. He died at home, in the mountain-hut. The
way it came about was this: The two brothers sat alone one night by the
fire after a day's hunting. Suddenly Richard stood up. His practised ear
heard a step far off down the mountain. Then Hugh rose: they looked at
each other. "It is he," they said, and went out into the night to meet
him. Their watch of half a lifetime was over.

Their brother, when they brought him into the house, was very poor and
weak, and looked as if he were an older man than either of them. But he
was full of triumph and good cheer.

"Boys," he said, "I told you I would not come back to you until I had
done a great deed. I have done it."

He never told them what it was, and they were contented with knowing
that he had taken rank above all other men down in the great world
yonder.

He lived for more than a year. It was a very happy year. The brothers
had waited long for it. They listened from morning until night to his
boastful little stories with undoubting faith and pleasure. As for their
hero, he felt that he had made his mark: he had his circle of admirers
and limitless applause: what could life give him more?

The little man wasted away gradually. Just at the last he looked up with
an assuring nod to Richard and Hugh: "You'll not be long behind me,
boys. But I'll be there before: I'll straighten matters a bit for you."
And so he went out with an airy