s to
furnish evidence that there is another fate than the fate we make
ourselves. In that early day I felt the unseen lines tighten around me.
I was nothing but a young student of unknown family, able to read and
write, to talk a little English, with some knowledge of history,
geography, mathematics, and Latin. Strength and scope came by atoms. I
did not know then as I know now that I am a slow grower, even when
making gigantic effort. An oak does not accumulate rings with more
deliberation than I change and build myself.

My master told me a few days later that the count decreed Madame de
Ferrier must go back to France. He intended to go with her and push her
claim; and his daughter and his daughter's governess would bear them
company. Doctor Chantry and I contemplated each other, glaring in mutual
solemnity. His eyes were red and watery, and the nose sharpened its
cone.

"When are they going?" I inquired.

"As soon as arrangements for comfortable sailing can be made. I wish I
were going back to England. I shall have to save twenty-five years
before I can go, but the fund is started."

If I saved a hundred and twenty-five years I could not go anywhere; for
I had nothing to save. The worthlessness of civilization rushed over
me. When I was an Indian the boundless world was mine. I could build a
shelter, and take food and clothes by my strength and skill. My boat or
my strong legs carried me to all boundaries.

I did not know what ailed me, but chased by these thoughts to the lake,
I determined not to go back again to De Chaumont's house. I was sick,
and my mother woods opened her arms. As if to show me what I had thrown
away to haunt the cages of men, one of those strange sights which is
sometimes seen in that region appeared upon the mountain. No one can
tell who lights the torch. A thread of fire ran up like an opening seam,
broadened, and threw out pink ravelings. The flame wavered, paled by
daylight, but shielding itself with strong smoke, and leaped from ledge
to ledge. I saw mighty pines, standing one moment green, and the next,
columns of fire. So the mass diverged, or ran together until a mountain
of fire stood against the sky, and stretched its reflection, a glowing
furnace, across the water.

Flecks of ash sifted on me in the boat. I felt myself a part of it, as I
felt myself a part of the many sunsets which had burned out on that
lake. Before night I penetrated to the heart of an island so densely
ove