would be
only too glad to come to you."

"Do you think so, Miss? But why should he come after what I said to
him?"

"Because he is so noble and true. You little know what he is to me.
Look," and she raised her hand to the arrow at her throat, "he gave me
this. It is a token of our love. He made it with his own hands from a
coin given to him by his mother. It was the means of saving me from
the slashers. Kitty saw it first, and it told her about me."

"Your story is really wonderful, girl, and I am thankful that you have
been saved. It means more to me than you imagine."

"In what way?"

"Don't you know? Because you were saved, you and those Indians were on
hand to deliver me from that moose."

"So that is the reason, then, why you are so kind to me, and allowed
those supplies to go to those needy Loyalists."

"No it is not," was the curt reply. "My life is of little value to any
one. It's because you are James Sterling's daughter; that's why. I
would do anything for his sake. He was a good friend of mine, and so
was his wife."

"I am thankful that you knew them. Was it for long, Mr. Norwood?"

"Why do you call me that?"

"Isn't that your name?"

"Heavens! No. I am Thomas Norman, your father's old friend."

At this confession Jean uttered a cry of amazement, and stared at the
man before her. She was almost too confused to think, so overwhelming
was her emotion. She felt that she must be dreaming, so wonderful did
it all appear.

"Yes," the man continued, "it is better for you to know all, and it
relieves my mind. Dane took the first part of his right name, and
merely changed the second. Now you understand all."

Jean did understand, and it gave her cause for much thought. She sat
down and gazed silently into the fire. How glad her father would be to
know that his friend was alive. And yet he would be greatly distressed
when he learned that he was a rebel. Could they ever be friends again?
she wondered. This modern Timon, with such hatred in his heart to the
King and the Loyalists, was not the man her father had known in the
days of old. Loyalty with the latter was a vital thing, and how could
he endure a man so bitterly opposed to the King?

The invalid surmised her thoughts as he watched her. She presented a
charming picture, ensconced in the deep chair, and he could well
understand how Dane must love her. He had always longed for a
daughter, and of the many girls he had e