She established him upon the branch again with the comforts that she had
promised, and then she gave him one thing more, of which she had not
spoken before. It was a bag of food that would last, if need be, for
several days.

He took it as evidence that she had lied to him in her assurance that
she could return the next night. As she moved her boat out of the secret
openings among the dead trees, she heard him whining with fear and
calling a volley of curses after her.

That her father's words were all profane did not trouble Ann in the
least. It was a meaningless trick of speech. Markham meant no more at
this time by his most shocking oaths than does any man by his habitual
expletive. Ann knew this perfectly. God knew it too.

Yet if his profanity was mechanical, the man himself was without trace
of good. There was much reason that Ann's heart should be wrung with
pity. It is the divine quality of kinship that it produces pity even for
what is purely evil. Ann rowed her boat homeward with a hard
determination in her heart to save her father at any cost.




CHAPTER V.


An hour later the small solitary boat crept up the current of the
moonlit river. The weary girl plied her oars, looking carefully for the