hy, certainly!" quoth Gaudylock. "And so you are going to settle down
like every other country gentleman,--safe and snug, winter and summer,
fenced in by tobacco and looking after negroes? I'll send you the skin
of a grizzly, too."

"Thank you," replied Rand; then presently, "I dreamed last night--when
at last I got to sleep--of my father. Do you remember how he used to
stride along with his black hair and his open shirt and his big stick in
his hand? I used to think that stick a part of him--just his arm made
long and heavy. I tried once to burn it when he was asleep. Ugh!"

"I dreamed," said Gaudylock imperturbably, "of a Shawnee girl who once
wanted me to stay in her father's lodge. 'It is winter in the forest,'
quoth she, 'and the wolves begin to howl. All your talk of places where
the river runs through flowers and the pale faces build great villages
is the talk of singing birds! Stay by the fire, Golden-tongue!' and I
stayed--in the dream.

"When you see a partridge
Scurrying through the grass,
Fit an arrow to the bow,
For a man will pass!

"Heigho!"

"I am already," retorted Rand, "at the place where the river runs
through flowers and the pale faces have built villages. Who will say
that I did not cross the forest?--I was years in crossing it! Here is
Lynch's."

The coffee house on Main Street was the resort of lawyers, politicians,
and strangers in town, and towards dusk, when the stage and post-rider
were in, a crowded and noisy place. It was yet early when Rand and
Gaudylock entered, and neither the mail-bag, nor many habitues of the
place had arrived. The room was quiet and not over brightly lit by the
declining sun and the flare of a great, crackling fire. There were a
number of tables and a few shadowy figures sipping chocolate, wine, or
punch. Rand led the way to a corner table, and, sitting down with his
back to the room, beckoned a negro and ordered wine. "I am tired, voice
and mind," he said to Gaudylock, "and I know you well enough to neglect
you. Let us sit still till the papers come."

He drank his wine and, with his elbow on the table, rested his forehead
upon his hand and closed his eyes. Adam emptied his glass, then, leaning
back in his corner, surveyed the room. Two men came and seated
themselves at a neighbouring table. They were talking in lowered voices,
but Gaudylock's ears were exceedingly keen. "A great speech!" said one.
"As great as Mr. Henry ever made. D