knew
that, at any time, his love of roaming might descend upon him, as it
were, in irresistible force. Since that day of the fox-hunt, he had
become more fully alive to his own wild hopes and longings; and now his
sincere fit of penitence and industry was beginning to wear off a bit,
the old, idle, roving mood was all ready to return to him again. He
feared his own thoughts, and he dreaded the crisis--dreaded the event
which must settle his decision one way or the other.

As he sat there, gazing at the roaring, glowing logs upon the hearth,
he reflected half-resentfully that duty and inclination had been
utterly at war in his life of late, and that the worst of the trouble
dated from his arrival at the Collinson homestead, which was perfectly
true. Before then, inclination had reigned supreme. He did not put
his own thoughts very clearly to himself. He only felt that, if he
yielded to his love of a wild life, that life would soon grow necessary
to his happiness. He thought how cruel it would be if he left
Stephanie and all other ties behind him, and struck out into the vast
space and freedom of the north. He shunned the very idea, and was
ashamed of it, yet there was an attraction in it which made him dwell
upon it again and again. The great plains and the free life of them,
the great woods and the mighty rivers, the beautiful lakes, and
mountains, pine-clad and snow-crested, untracked, unknown--he had heard
of it all dimly, from one and another. All these things he loved and
longed to know, and against them Stephanie. "Of course, I wouldn't do
it," he assured himself. Yet his eyes took on their bright gipsy-look
as he gazed into the heart of the blaze.

For the rest of the evening he was in a dream-world, far from the
homestead; and later, he put on his blanket-coat again, and wandered
out into the garden, that he might indulge in his dreams more easily.
Just near the door he nearly fell over a shadowy figure crouched
against the wall. The figure rose to its feet, and just then Roger
pulled aside the curtain. In the sudden gleam of light Dick saw a
keen, dark face, in which were unexpectedly set two hard, green-grey
eyes. He heard the sound of some ceremonial greeting in a strange
speech. But it was so much like a part of his dreams he felt
bewildered. It was Peter Many-Names, who presently descended to his
English, and pointing to a frozen haunch of venison, gravely gave Dick
to understand that he wo