began. "Is an attack to be made upon
those Loyalists?"

"What do you mean?" the man asked in surprise.

"Just what I said. The rebels planned to wipe out the Loyalists down
river, and it looks to me as if they are about to try the same upon the
ones on the A-jem-sek."

"Nonsense, girl," was the impatient reply. "It is foolish to think of
such a thing."

"Well, what is the meaning, then, of this gathering of men from various
parts who are so anxious to do something before the rangers arrive?
They surely intend some mischief."

"Just a little fun, Miss, that's all. The boys like a lark
occasionally. It keeps them in good spirits."

"Are they all like Dave?"

"Why, don't you like him?"

"No, I do not. He has evil eyes."

"Dave is not as bad as you think. He is a weak creature, with little
brains, and no sense at all. But the rest are not a bad lot, though
rather rough at times, especially when they are drinking. But let us
forget all about them for the present. Read some to me. Let it be
Timon again. I feel in a mood for him to-day. If you knew Latin, I
would have you read about Old Aeneas. I like Virgil's full sounding
sentences, 'Arma virumque cano.' There's nothing like them."

"Yes, there is," Jean quietly replied, as she rose to her feet, crossed
the room, and took down a book from a small shelf on the wall. This
she opened as soon as she had taken her seat before the fire, and
turned over several pages.

"Here is something better than Virgil," she said, "and I am going to
read from it now. It will do both of us much good."

"Is that the Bible, Miss?"

"It is, and from all appearances you have not read much from it of
late. It is very dusty."

"That's true, and I don't want to hear it now. I don't like it."

"Neither do we like medicine, Mr. Timon. But when we are sick we take
it whether we like it or not. It is for our good."

"So you think I am sick?"

"There is something wrong with you, I am sure, more serious than your
injured side. This is the only thing, I believe, that will help you."

"But I won't listen."

"You don't have to. I am going to read it, though. You liked the
verse of the hymn I sang, didn't you?"

"Oh, that was different. It was your voice I liked, but not the
sentimental mush of words."

"Well, then, you can listen to my voice now if you want to. But I
guess you will listen to the words, too, unless you are different from
what I think you are