m up solid.
So he is this great man, with this great--notion. Tell me, what is he
like?"

"Oh, he's a big, strong man, as ready to laugh as to fight."

Father Adam smiled, and stooped over the fire to push the attenuated
sticks of it together.

"May I ask why you're going to Sachigo?" he asked, without looking up.

Just for a moment Nancy hesitated. Then she laughed happily.

"I don't see why you shouldn't," she cried. "There's no secret.
Skandinavia intends to buy him, or crush him."

The man sat up.

"And you--a girl--are the emissary?"

Incredulity robbed the man of the even calmness of' his manner.

"Yes. Why not?"

The challenge in the girls's eyes was unmistakable.

"You won't buy him," Father Adam said quietly. "And you certainly won't
crush him."

"Because I'm a girl?"

"Oh, no. I was thinking of the Skandinavia." The man shook his head. "If
I'm a judge of men, the crushing will be done from the other end of the
line."

"This man will crush Skandinavia?"

The idea that Skandinavia could be crushed was quite unthinkable to
Nancy. It was the great monopoly of the country. It was--but she felt
that this lonely creature could have no real understanding of the power
of her people.

"Surely," he returned quietly. "But that," he added, with a return of
his pleasant smile, "is just the notion of one man. I should say it's no
real account. Yes, you go there. You see this man. The battle of your
people with him matters little. It will be good for you to see him.
It--may help you. Who can tell? He's a white man, and a fighter. He's
honest and clean. It's--in the meeting of kindred spirits that the
great events of life are brought about. It should be good for you both."

"I wonder?" Nancy rose from her chair.

The man rose also.

"I think so," he said, very decidedly.

The girl laughed.

"I hope so. But--" She held out her hand. "Thank you, Father," she said.
"I'll never be able to think of the things I'm set on achieving without
remembering our talk--and the man I met in the forest. I wish--but
what's the use? I've got to make good. I must. I must go on, and--do the
thing I see. Good-bye."

Father Adam was holding the small gauntleted hand, and he seemed loth to
release it. His eyes were very gentle, very earnest.

"Don't worry to remember, child. Don't ever think about--this time. It
won't help you. You've set your goal. Make it. You will do the good
things you fancy to do, though maybe not