n-soaked meadows came through the open
car window.

It was nearly ten o'clock and already, ahead, he caught sight of the
lights of Neeland's Mills. Always the homecoming was a keen delight to
him; and now, as he stepped off the train, the old familiar odours
were in his nostrils--the unique composite perfume of the native place
which never can be duplicated elsewhere.

All the sweet and aromatic and homely smells of earth and land and
water came to him with his first deep-drawn breath. The rank growth of
wild flowers and weeds were part of it--the flat atmosphere of the
mill pond, always redolent of water weed and lily pads, tinctured it;
distant fields of buckwheat added heavier perfume.

Neither in the quaint brick feed mill nor in the lumber mill were
there any lights, but in his own home, almost buried among tall trees
and vines, the light streamed from the sitting-room windows.

From the dark yard two or three dogs barked at him, then barked again
in a different key, voicing an excited welcome; and he opened the
picket gate and went up the path surrounded by demonstrative setters
and pointers, leaping and wagging about him and making a vast amount
of noise on the vine-covered verandah as he opened the door, let
himself into the house, and shut them out.

"Hello, dad!" he said, crossing swiftly to where his father sat by the
reading lamp.

Their powerful grip lingered. Old Dick Neeland, ruddy, white-haired,
straight as a pine, stood up in his old slippers and quilted smoking
coat, his brier pipe poised in his left hand.

"Splendid, Jim. I've been thinking about you this evening." He might
have added that there were few moments when his son was not in his
thoughts.

"Are you all right, dad?"

"Absolutely. You are, too, I see."

They seated themselves.

"Hungry, Jim?"

"No; I dined aboard."

"You didn't telegraph me."

"No; I came at short notice."

"Can't you stay?"

"Dad, I have a drawing-room reserved for the midnight tonight, and I
am sailing on the _Volhynia_ tomorrow at nine in the morning!"

"God bless me! Why, Jim?"

"Dad, I'll tell you all I know about it."

His father sat with brier pipe suspended and keen blue eyes fixed on
his son, while the son told everything he knew about the reason for
his flying trip to Paris.

"You see how it is, don't you, dad?" he ended. "The Princess has been
a good and loyal friend to me. She has used her influence; I have met,
through her, the people