news from Jan. When, therefore, the minister in leaving
said, "Snorro thou art strong, and Hamish is weak, come to-night and
carry him some peats into the house," Snorro's face lighted up with
expectation.

Undoubtedly it was a great night for Snorro. When Dr. Balloch
explained to him, as Lord Lynne had explained to Jan, the noble
necessity of the African squadron, his heart burned like fire. He
could almost have shouted aloud in his pity and indignation. It seemed
to him a glorious thing that Jan had gone. Somehow his limited
capacity failed to take in more than the work to be done, and that Jan
was to do it. Minor details made no impression on him. Jan to his mind
was the only hero. The British Government, Wilberforce, public
opinion, all the persons and events that had led up to England's
advocacy of the rights of humanity, all were merged in Jan.

When he left Dr. Balloch he felt as if he were walking upon air. On
the moor, where no one could hear him, he laughed aloud, a mighty
laugh, that said for Jan far more than he could find words to say. He
heeded not the wind and the softly falling snow; had not Jan, his Jan,
sailed away in her Majesty's service, a deliverer and a conqueror?
Suddenly he felt a desire to see something relating to him. If he went
round by Peter's house, perhaps he might see Margaret and the baby. In
the state of exaltation he was in, all things seemed easy and natural
to him. In fact the slight resistance of the elements was an
unconscious and natural relief.

Peter's house shone brightly afar off. As he approached it he saw that
the sitting-room was in a glow of fire and candle-light. Before he
reached the gate he heard the murmur of voices. He had only to stand
still and the whole scene was before him. Peter sat in his old place
on the hearthstone. Around it were two of Suneva's cousins, soncy,
jolly wives, with their knitting in their hands and their husbands by
their sides. They were in eager and animated conversation, noisy
laughs and ejaculations could be distinctly heard, and Suneva herself
was moving busily about, setting the table for a hot supper. Her blue
silk dress and gold chain, and her lace cap fluttering with white
ribbons, made her a pleasant woman to look at. It was a happy
household picture, but Margaret Vedder was not in it.

Snorro waited long in hopes of seeing her; waited until the smoking
goose and hot potatoes, and boiling water, lemons and brandy, drew
every one