not understand what the child was saying to
him, but the sound of her soft voice soothed his troubled heart. She
little knew how dark and hard that heart had become.

"What is it you want, little damsel?" he asked, in a tone as if he had
been lost in thought while she was speaking.

"I came to bring you this food," she said. "I shall be so glad to see
you eat some."

The old man, without further remonstrance, almost mechanically, it
seemed, consumed the food she offered him.

For several days Laurence hung between life and death, but the constant
and watchful care of his new friends was blessed with success; and once
more he opened his eyes, and was able to understand and reply to what
was said to him. As soon as he was considered out of danger, old
Michael regained his usual manner. Though he expressed his gratitude to
his hosts in his rough, blunt way, he uttered no expression which showed
that he believed that aught of thanks were due to the Giver of all good
for his son's recovery. With his ordinary firm tread he stalked into
the room where Laurence lay.

"I am glad to see thee coming round, boy," he said. "Food and quiet is
all that is now required to fit thee for work again. Dost not long to
be once more wandering through the forest, or trapping by the side of
the broad stream? I am already weary, as I knew I should, of this dull
life, and must away to look after our traps and such of our peltries as
may have escaped the claws of the cunning wolverines."

"Stay for me but a few days, and I shall be ready to go with you,
father," said the boy, trying to raise himself up.

"Nay, nay, boy; but you're not yet strong enough for travelling. The
snow lies thickly on the ground, and the winter's wind whistles keenly
through the forest and across the plain. Stay a while with your good
friends here, and I'll come back for thee, and then we will hie away to
lead the free life we have enjoyed so long." Old Michael spoke in a
more subdued tone than usual.

"You speak truth, father, when you say our friends are kind; if it were
not for you I should not wish to leave them. Sometimes, when Mrs
Ramsay and her little daughter have been tending me, my thoughts have
been carried back to the days when I was a young child, or else to some
pleasant dreams which have visited me in my sleep."

"Speak not again of those times, Laurence," exclaimed the old trapper in
an angry tone. "They are mere foolish fancies of th