d. "Oh, I'm so proud of
you, my Roger. And I love Yellow Bird. And Sun Cloud. Some day--we'll
go!"

He nodded, happiness overshadowing the fear of Breault that had grown
in his heart.

"Yes, we'll go. I've dreamed it, and the dream helped to keep me
alive--"

And then he told her of Cassidy, and of the paradise he had found with
Giselle and her grandfather on the other side of Wollaston.

And so it happened the hours passed swiftly, and it was afternoon when
they returned to Father John's cabin, and Nada went into her room.

In the early waning of the sun the feast which the Leaf Bud had been
preparing was ready, and not until then did Nada appear again.

And once more the lump rose up in Roger's throat at the wonder of her,
for very completely she had transformed herself into a woman again,
from the softly shining coils of hair on the crown of her head to the
coquettish little slippers that set off her dainty feet. And he saw the
white gleam of soft shoulders and tender arms where once had been rags
and bruises, and held there by the slim beauty and exquisite daintiness
of her he stared like a fool, until suddenly she laughed joyously at
his amaze, and ran to him with wide-open arms, and kissed him so
soundly that Peter cocked up his ears a bit startled. And then she
kissed Father John, and after that was mistress at the table, radiant
in her triumph and her eyes starry with happiness.

And she was no longer shy in speaking his name, but called him Roger
boldly and many times, and twice during that meal of marvelous
forgetfulness--though long lashes covered her eyes when she spoke
it--she called him 'my husband.'

In truth she was a woman and for the most part Roger McKay--fighting
man and very strong though he was--looked at her in dumb worship,
speaking little, his heart a-throb, and his brain reeling in the marvel
of what at last had come into his possession.

And yet, even in this hour of supreme happiness that held him half
mute, there was always lurking in the back of his brain a thought of
Breault, the Ferret.

CHAPTER XIX

In the star dusk of evening the time came when he spoke his fears to
Father John.

Nada had gone into her room, taking Peter with her, and out under the
cool of the skies Father John's pale face was turned up to the unending
glory of the firmament, and his lips were whispering a prayer of
gratitude and blessing, when Roger laid a hand gently on his arm.

"Father," he