chance
now--none at all. He sailed to-morrow.

He had dreamed a wonderful dream since first he had beheld the charming
fur-clad figure enter his office at Sachigo. He had realised, even in
those first moments, the impish act of Fate. Nancy McDonald was the one
woman in the world who could mean life--real life to him, and they were
definitely arrayed against each other in the battle for commercial
supremacy in which they were both engaged.

But Fate's act had only added to his desire. The whole thing had
appealed to his combative instinct. It had left him feeling there was
not alone the storming of the Skandinavia's stronghold to be achieved.
There was also a captive, a fair, innocent captive held bound and
prisoned within the citadel for him to set free. He wanted Nancy as he
wanted nothing else in the world. Sachigo? Canada for the Canadians?
These things were cold, meaningless words. He only thought of the
dawning of the day that should see Nancy his wife, his everything in
life.

He betook himself out on to the Terraces overlooking the slowly freezing
waterway of the great St. Lawrence river. It was keenly cold, and the
white carpet of winter's first snow remained unmelted on the ground. But
the sun was shining, and the crisp air was sparkling, and the terraces
were filled with fur-clad folk who, like himself, had found leisure for
a half hour of one of the finest views in the world.

He paced leisurely down the great promenade towards the old Citadel with
all its memories of great men, and the old time Buccaneers who had made
history about its walls. He gazed upon it and wondered. Were they such
bad old days? Were the men who lived in those times great men? Were they
scoundrelly Buccaneers? Were their scruples and morals any more lax than
those of to-day? Were they any different from those who walked under the
shadow of the old walls? They were the questions doubtless asked a
thousand times in as many minutes by those who paused to think as they
contemplated this fine old landmark.

Bull found his own prompt answers. There was no difference, he told
himself. The men and women of to-day were doing the same things,
enduring the same emotions, fighting the same battles, living and
loving, and hating and dying, just as life had ordained from the
beginning of time. And as he stood there he wondered how long this round
of human effort and passion must continue. How long this--

"Why, I hadn't an idea you were so in