aura Waynefleet's face, and said
nothing. He fancied that he knew the establishment in Victoria to
which Waynefleet referred, but it was not one which he had ever
visited, or which the smaller Bush-ranchers usually frequented.

Soon after supper, Nasmyth withdrew to the bed, which he had insisted
on preparing for himself in the loft above the stables, and it was
next day when he spoke to Laura Waynefleet alone.

"I can't abuse your kindness any longer," he said. "I must go away."

The girl looked at him quietly. "You are far from strong yet, and--it
must be mentioned--there was not a dollar in your pockets."

"That is certainly the case;" and Nasmyth flushed a little. "Still, I
can get as far as the settlement, and I dare say somebody, who won't
be too hard on me at first, may want a hand. I am really rather a good
chopper."

Laura smiled as she glanced at his face, but it was not its hollowness
she was thinking of. Nasmyth had not the appearance of the average
chopper.

"Well," she said, "perhaps you had better see my father. I think he
has something to say to you."

She left him, and, half an hour later, Waynefleet came up to Nasmyth,
who was sunning himself outside the ranch-house. Like many other
houses in that country, it stood beneath a few great firs on the edge
of a desolate clearing, round which the primeval forest rose in an
unbroken wall. Behind it, and a little farther back among the trees,
was the rude barn, built of big notched logs, and roofed with cedar
shingles. In front there lay some twenty acres of cleared land, out of
which rose the fir-stumps, girdled with withered fern, for a warm wind
from the Pacific had swept the snow away. Beyond that, in turn, and
outside the split-rail fence, rows of giant trunks lay piled in the
tremendous ruin usually called the "slashing." Some day, these would
be sawn up and burnt, and the clearing driven farther back into the
Bush. The little gap into which the sunlight shone, however, had been
hewn out at the cost of several years of strenuous labour, and
Nasmyth, who was aware of this, felt inclined to smile as the man who
owned it strolled up to him. It was a little difficult to imagine that
he had had any great share in the making of that clearing.

Waynefleet was dressed in duck, but it was whole and unsoiled, and
Nasmyth made his own deductions from a glance at the delicate hands.
As a rule, Waynefleet's expression was discontented and querulous, but
for