"Dan," said Philip abruptly, "I want you to come on with me
to-morrow."

Field was looking out through the trees toward the wharf and boats at
the head of the lake. He turned sharply and answered: "Phil, you're a
prig. I'll do nothing of the kind."

"We've been here long enough, Dan," Philip went on, taking no notice
of the rudeness except in his manner. "I shall go north in the
morning. I wish you would come with me."

"The deuce you do!" Field retorted. "You may do as you please. We came
to stay as long as we enjoyed it here, and there's nothing to go for,
that I know of."

No more was said. Colman went to bed, and Field sat smoking by the
window. After a while he forgot his cigar, and it went out. He heard
the wind whispering among the trees that almost brushed his face.
Through the branches he got glimpses of the lake placid under the
moon, and the black breadths of shadow below the opposite hills. He
sat a long while, and the house became still. He seemed alone with the
night, and the hush and awe of it touched him and moulded his thought.
It was very late when he got up at last. The lamp was still burning,
and Field had not taken off his hat. He went over and sat down on the
edge of the bed, and looked at his sleeping friend until the latter
opened his eyes.

"Phil," said Field, "you're not a prig, but I'm a fool. I'm coming
with you in the morning."

"All right, Dan," Philip answered. "I'm glad you are coming.
Good-night."

They went on north next day with no definite plan, came to the lower
lake and the old fort on the cliff, and, taking a great liking to the
place, lingered in the neighborhood from day to day. They happened
one evening upon a queer, secluded public-house across the lake, where
they fell in with a long, lean, leathery young native, who appeared
to be a guide and waterman, and told them stories of the hunting and
fishing among the lakes and mountains in a vein of unconscious humor
and a low, even, husky voice which the friends found very agreeable.
They met him again at a fair and horse-race at Scalp Point, and found
their liking for him increased. Finally, they were to go south at noon
on Friday, and then put it off till the night boat. After supper they
took out the skiff from the rocky landing for a last row. They pulled
round under the dark cliffs that rose sheer from the water and were
crowned with the wall of the old fort, the cliffs themselves seamed
across with strata of whi