."

"What makes you say that?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Certainly."

Jean gazed into the fire for a few minutes, while the man watched her
curiously.

"Go on," he ordered. "Out with it."

"I believe you are trying to be what you are not," the girl bluntly
charged. "At first I thought you were a brute, and I was afraid of
you. But since I have learned what an educated man you are, and
watched you after your outburst about the King and the Loyalists, I
have come to the conclusion that you are fighting against your best
convictions."

"Why, girl, you surprise me!" the man gasped.

"Perhaps so, Mr. Timon. But can you truthfully say that I am not
right? You cannot, and I know that you have nothing in common with
such a creature as that Dave who was here. It isn't natural for a man
like you to be in league with a gang of rebels. There, now, I have
told you what I think, so you can say what you like. I am going to
read the Master's words, for I believe you need them."

Although outwardly calm, Jean's heart was beating fast. She expected
to hear the man deny what she had said, or say something in his own
defence. When, however, he remained silent, she glanced at him, and
then turned her eyes upon the open page.

"Ye have heard that it was said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate
thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that
curse you, do good to them that hate you and pray for them that
despitefully use you, and persecute you."

"Stop, stop!" the man cried. "I can't stand those words. They are not
meant for me. I can't pray for my enemies. Do you think I can pray
for King George?"

"That is for you to decide, Mr. Timon. I am sure that I can pray for
those who carried me away from home. Don't you think that they need
it?"

Jean was about to close the book, when her eyes rested upon some words
on the front page. As she looked, her face turned pale, and she gave a
slight gasp of astonishment.

"What is the matter?" the man asked.

But the girl did not hear him. Her eyes were fixed upon the words

"To darling Dane,
With Mother's best love.
May God bless and keep you."

Her heart almost stopped beating as she stared at the writing,
especially the word "Dane." What did it mean? she asked herself. It
must be her own Dane; there could not be two. Was this his book? Was
this his home? Then a sudden thought flashed into her mind, and
some