“Well, what is the meaning, then, of this gathering of men from various parts who are so anxious to do something before the rangers arrive?  They surely intend some mischief.”

“Just a little fun, Miss, that’s all.  The boys like a lark occasionally.  It keeps them in good spirits.”

“Are they all like Dave?”

“Why, don’t you like him?”

“No, I do not.  He has evil eyes.”

“Dave is not as bad as you think.  He is a weak creature, with little brains, and no sense at all.  But the rest are not a bad lot, though rather rough at times, especially when they are drinking.  But let us forget all about them for the present.  Read some to me.  Let it be Timon again.  I feel in a mood for him to-day.  If you knew Latin, I would have you read about Old Aeneas.  I like Virgil’s full sounding sentences, ‘Arma virumque cano.’  There’s nothing like them.”

“Yes, there is,” Jean quietly replied, as she rose to her feet, crossed the room, and took down a book from a small shelf on the wall.  This she opened as soon as she had taken her seat before the fire, and turned over several pages.

“Here is something better than Virgil,” she said, “and I am going to read from it now.  It will do both of us much good.”

“Is that the Bible, Miss?”

“It is, and from all appearances you have not read much from it of late.  It is very dusty.”

“That’s true, and I don’t want to hear it now.  I don’t like it.”

“Neither do we like medicine, Mr. Timon.  But when we are sick we take it whether we like it or not.  It is for our good.”

“So you think I am sick?”

“There is something wrong with you, I am sure, more serious than your injured side.  This is the only thing, I believe, that will help you.”

“But I won’t listen.”

“You don’t have to.  I am going to read it, though.  You liked the verse of the hymn I sang, didn’t you?”

“Oh, that was different.  It was your voice I liked, but not the sentimental mush of words.”

“Well, then, you can listen to my voice now if you want to.  But I guess you will listen to the words, too, unless you are different from what I think you are.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Certainly.”

Jean gazed into the fire for a few minutes, while the man watched her curiously.

“Go on,” he ordered.  “Out with it.”

“I believe you are trying to be what you are not,” the girl bluntly charged.  “At first I thought you were a brute, and I was afraid of you.  But since I have learned what an educated man you are, and watched you after your outburst about the King and the Loyalists, I have come to the conclusion that you are fighting against your best convictions.”

“Why, girl, you surprise me!” the man gasped.

“Perhaps so, Mr. Timon.  But can you truthfully say that I am not right?  You cannot, and I know that you have nothing in common with such a creature as that Dave who was here.  It isn’t natural for a man like you to be in league with a gang of rebels.  There, now, I have told you what I think, so you can say what you like.  I am going to read the Master’s words, for I believe you need them.”