t again. But even he was
conscious of a something which restrained him from making further
reference to Courtland.

Outwardly Ancram was a tall, well-built fellow, several years younger
than Lamont. He was good-looking, but the face was one of a very
ordinary type, with nothing about it to stamp itself upon the
recollection. As a fellow-guest at Courtland, Lamont had rather
disliked him for his own sake, and still more because he had tried to
get between himself and Violet. Moreover, Ancram had been among those
who muttered against him on the bank of the frozen mere what time his
_fiancee_ had put upon him that abominable and unmerited insult. And
now the fellow turned up here, claiming his hospitality, and talking to
him as if he was his dearest friend.

"Excuse my seeming inhospitality, Ancram," he said. "I must go and help
give an eye to the off-loading, but if you like to go in there you'll
find all the ingredients for a wash-up. We shall have supper directly."

"Oh, that's quite all right, old chap," was the airy reply, "By the way,
I'll come with you."

Outside, by the light of three or four lanterns, several natives were
busily unloading the donkey-carts and transferring their contents to the
strongly-built hut which constituted the store-room: bags and boxes, and
pockets of sugar, and packages of candles and soap--all sorts of
necessaries and a few luxuries.

"Aha!" laughed Peters, shaking one case; "was beginning to think this
had been forgotten. What'd become of us then, hey, Ancram?"

"Why, what is it?"

"Scotch. Pother's Squareface. Well, we're nearly through now, and I
shan't be sorry to get my champers into a steak of that sable."

"Well, you won't be able to," said Lamont. "There's none left. But I
went down into `the poultry yard' and picked up a few pheasants."

"We call the river bank our poultry yard, Ancram," explained Peters,
when they were seated at table discussing the products of the same.
"When we first came up here, Lamont and I, if we wanted a bird or two we
just went to the door and shot it. Now you have to go away from the
homestead a bit, but you can always get as many as you want. Are you
fond of shooting?"

"Rather. I say, Lamont, d'you remember what jolly shoots we had at
Courtland?"

"Are you fond of fighting, Ancram?" said Lamont.

The other stared. There was a grim directness in the question. Both
were thinking the same thing. It seemed an odd question