man,
Donalblane did not fare so well--in fact, he got a bad thrashing; but
as he nursed his bruises he found comfort in the conviction that they
were suffered in a good cause, and that he would never allow Mr.
Paterson's reputation to be blackened if he could in any wise help it.

Among the early victims of the fever had been Mrs. Sutherland and her
little boy, and, broken in heart and spirit, Mr. Sutherland not long
after joined them in the grave, so that Donalblane felt he had only one
friend left, for somehow he had not taken kindly to any of the other
men. He therefore attached himself closely to Mr. Paterson, and thus
had the opportunity of rendering him a supremely important service.

Mr. Paterson had invited him to share his hut--a mark of esteem that
made him very pleased and proud, as may be imagined. They had thus
lived together for a fortnight, Mr. Paterson devoting himself to the
trying difficulties that surrounded him, while Donalblane spent his
time in fishing and hunting, so that they might always be supplied with
food. One day Donald chanced to overhear a conversation between two of
the worst characters in the colony, which made it clear that they had
designs upon Mr. Paterson's life. He at once made known his
suspicions, but Mr. Paterson treated the matter lightly.

[Illustration: "CHANCED TO OVERHEAR A CONVERSATION WHICH MADE IT CLEAR
THAT THEY HAD DESIGNS UPON MR. PATERSON'S LIFE."]

"I am very much obliged to you, my boy," he said, with his rare smile,
"but there is nothing to be feared. I understand those fellows. They
would be well pleased, no doubt, to have me out of the way, but they'd
never have the courage to do what you fear."

This made Donalblane feel a little easier in his mind; nevertheless, he
resolved to keep a watch upon the rascals, and to be alert for any
danger that might threaten.

"They'll never do Mr. Paterson any harm if I can help it," he said to
himself, and certainly no Scottish chieftain ever had a more loving or
loyal clansman than he.

One stormy night when the wind blew and the rain fell as though they
had combined in an attack upon the hut, which was none too strong or
tight, Donalblane felt restless and wakeful.

Mr. Paterson, wearied with toil and trial, was sleeping soundly, but
his companion tossed about in his hammock with wide-open eyes.
Presently his quick ear caught a sound that he did not think was caused
by the storm, but by some person or creatur