r faces today. That is why he is over there now
hacking down that dreadful thing. It is the skeleton at our feast. We
were conscious of its presence all the time. He is over there all by
himself cutting it down so that our hearts may be lighter, so that this
glad hour may end without its curse. Please remain where you are. He
requires no assistance. He prefers to do it all alone. And now, if you
will all give attention, Madame Careni-Amori will sing for us."

Careni-Amori lifted up her glorious voice in song. The rhythmic beat
of the ax went on unceasingly; the powerful arms and shoulders of the
destroyer were behind every frenzied blow. As the last notes of the song
died away, there came the sound of splintering wood, then a dull crash,
and the gibbet lay flat upon the ground. Some one uttered an involuntary
shout. As Percival turned from his completed work and wiped the sweat
from his brow with his bare forearm, he found the gaze of the entire
company fastened upon him. Then there came to his ears the clapping of
hands, then the shrill clamour of voices raised in approbation. Swinging
the ax on high, he buried its blade deep in the fallen timber and left
it imbedded there. Snatching up his coat from a nearby stump, he waved
his hand to the crowd and then, whirling, was quickly lost among the
trees that lined the shore.

Landover walked beside the thoughtful Ruth as she crossed the Green on
her way home. He studied her lovely profile out of the corner of his
eye. As they drew away from the dispersing throng, he spoke to her.

"If money were of any value here in this Godforsaken spot, I would offer
considerably more than a penny for your thoughts, Ruth."

She started slightly. "You couldn't buy them, Mr. Landover. They are not
for sale at any price."

"I suppose there is no harm in venturing a guess, however. You will give
me one guess, won't you?"

"All the guesses you like,--free of charge," she rejoined airily.

"You are trying to decide whether or not it was all done for effect."

She smiled mysteriously, looking straight ahead. Her eyes were very
bright.

"You are wrong. I was thinking about hats, Mr. Landover. Don't you know
that every woman's thoughts run to hats on Easter?"

"I confess I had a better opinion of him," he said, disregarding her
flippancy. "I don't like him, but I've never suspected him of being a
stupid ass before."

"Of whom are you speaking?" she inquired, suddenly looking him full i