out naked--that he was facing a world with his back to the wall.

And now, as the sun went down, and his supper waited--that cloud
which came to blot out his picture grew deeper and more sinister,
and the chill of it entered his heart. He turned from his table to
the open door, and his fingers drew themselves slowly into
clenched fists, and he looked out quietly and steadily into his
world. The darkening depths of the forest reached out before his
eyes, mottled and painted in the fading glory of the sun. It was
his world, his everything--father, mother, God. In it he was born,
and in it he knew that some day he would die. He loved it,
understood it, and night and day, in sunshine and storm, its
mighty spirit was the spirit that kept him company. But it held no
message for him now. And his ears scarcely heard the raucous
scolding of the blue-jay in the fire-tipped crest of the tall
black spruce.

And then that something which was bigger than desire came up
within him, and forced itself in words between his grimly set
lips.

"She's only a--a kid," he said, a fierce, low note of defiance in
his voice. "And I--I'm a damned pirate, and there's jails waiting
for me, and they'll get me sooner or later, sure as God lets me
live!"

He turned from the sun to his shadowing cabin, and for a moment a
ghost of a smile played in his face as he heard the little mother-
mouse rustling among her papers.