ade no answer. He was not a man of education or much
imagination, but like others of his kind he had alternately borne many
privations in the wilderness, logging, prospecting, trail-cutting about
the remoter mines, and at sea. As one result of this there crept into
his mind some recognition of what the outcast who lay at rest beside
their feet had had to face--the infinite toil of the march, the black
despair, the blinding snow, and Arctic frost. He met his leader's gaze
with a look of comprehending sympathy.

By what grim efforts and primitive devices their comrade, had clung to
life so long as he had done it seemed very probable that they would
never know, but they clearly realised that though some might call it an
illegal raid, or even piracy, it was a work of mercy this outlaw who
had borne so much had undertaken when he was cast away. In the word to
swing the boats over and face the roaring surf in the darkness of the
night he had heard the clear call of duty, and had fearlessly obeyed.
His obedience had cost him much, but as the man who had come so far to
search for him looked down upon the little pile of stones that had been
raised above his bones in the desolate wilderness, there awoke within
him a sure recognition of the fact that this was not the end. That, at
least, was unthinkable. His comrade, sloughing off the half-frozen,
suffering flesh, had gone on to join the immortals--with his duty done.

It was with a warmth at his heart and a slight haziness in his eyes
that Wyllard turned away at length, but when he put on his fur cap
again he was more determined than ever to carry out the search. There
were many perils and difficulties to be faced, but he felt that he must
not flinch.

"One man went inland," he said to Overweg. "I must go that way, too."

The little spectacled scientist looked at him curiously.

"Ah," he said, "the road your comrade travelled is a hard one. You
have seen what it leads to."

Then Wyllard did what is in the case of such men as he was a somewhat
unusual thing, for he gave another a glimpse of the feelings he
generally kept hidden deep in him.

"No," he said, quietly, "the hard road leads further--where we do not
know--but one feels that the full knowledge will not bring sorrow when
it is some day given to those who have the courage to follow."

Overweg spread his hands out. "It is not the view of the materialists,
but it is conceivable that the materialists may be