loth, somewhat faded and worn,
adds to the colossal appearance of the man: while a red-flannel shirt
serves him also for a vest. His huge limbs are encased in pantaloons of
blue Kentucky "jeans;" but these are scarcely visible--as the skirt of
his ample coat drapes down so as to cover the tops of a pair of rough
horse-skin boots, that reach upwards to his knees. The costume is
common enough on the banks of the Mississippi; the colossal form is not
rare; but the fierce, and somewhat repulsive countenance--that is more
individual.

Is this father of Marian and Lilian? Is it possible from so rude a stem
could spring such graceful branches--flowers so fair and lovely? If so,
then must the mothers of both have been beautiful beyond common! It is
even true, and true that both were beautiful--were for they are gone,
and Hickman Holt is twice a widower. Long ago, he buried the half-blood
mother of Marian; and at a later period--though still some years ago--
her gentle golden-haired successor was carried to an early grave.

The latter event occurred in one of the settlements, nearer to the
region of civilised life. There was a murmur of mystery about the
second widowhood of Hickman Holt, which only became hushed on his
"moving" further west--to the wild forest where we now find him. Here
no one knows aught of his past life or history--one only excepted--and
that is the man who is to-day his visitor.

Contrasting the two men--regarding the superior size and more formidable
aspect of the owner of the cabin, you would expect his guest to make
some show of obeisance to him. On the contrary, it is the squatter who
exhibits the appearance of complaisance. He has already saluted his
visitor with an air of embarrassment, but ill-concealed under the words
of welcome with which he received him. Throughout the scene of
salutation, and afterwards, the schoolmaster has maintained his
characteristic demeanour of half-smiling, half-sneering coolness.
Noting the behaviour of these two men to one another, even a careless
observer could perceive that the smaller man is the _master_!

CHAPTER SIX.

AN APOSTOLIC EFFORT.

The morning needed no fire, but there were embers upon the clay-hearth--
some smouldering ends of faggots--over which the breakfast had been
cooked. On one side of the fireplace the squatter placed a stool for
his visitor; and then another for himself, as if mechanically on the
opposite side. A table of roug