the Master-mind that shaped the laws of the universe be not greater than the universe; whether when man’s mind loses grip—­as you call it—­of the little, nagging, insistent realities it may not leap free like the jagged lightnings from peak to peak of a consciousness that overtowers life’s commoner levels!  Spite of our boastings, each knows neither more nor less than life hath taught him.  For me, I know what the dream-voice spoke proved true:  life, the shadow of a great reality; love, the all; the blind gods of storm and dark and prey, the puppets of the God of gods, working his will; and the God of gods a God of love, realest when love is near.

Once, I mind, the dark seemed alive with wolfish shades, sniffing, prowling, circling, creeping nearer like that monster wolf of fable set on by the powers of evil to hunt Man to his doom.  A nightmare of fear bound me down.  The death-frosts settled and tightened and closed—­but suddenly, Hortense took cold hands in her palms, calling and calling and calling me back to life and hope and her.  Then I waked.

Though I peopled the mist with many shadows, Le Borgne alone stood there.

CHAPTER XX

WHO THE PIRATES WERE

How long I lay in the pirates’ cave I could not tell; for day and night were alike with the pale-blue flame quivering against the earth-wall, gusts of cold air sweeping through the door, low-whispered talks from the inner cave.

At last I surprised Le Borgne mightily by sitting bolt upright and bidding him bring me a meal of buffalo-tongue or teal.  With the stolid repartee of the Indian he grunted back that I had tongue enough; but he brought the stuff with no ill grace.  After that he had much ado to keep me off my feet.  Finally, I promised by the soul of his grandfather neither to spy nor listen about the doors of the inner cave, and he let me up for an hour at a time to practise walking with the aid of a lance-pole.  As he found that I kept my word, he trusted me alone in the cave, sitting crouched on the log-end with a buckskin sling round my shattered sword-arm, which the wolves had not helped that night at the stake.

In the food Le Borgne brought was always a flavour of simples or drugs.  One night—­at least I supposed it was night from the chill of the air blowing past the bearskin—­just as Le Borgne stooped to serve me, his torch flickered out.  Before he could relight, I had poured the broth out and handed back an empty bowl.

Then I lay with eyes tight shut and senses wide awake.  The Indian sat on the log-end watching.  I did not stir.  Neither did I fall asleep as usual.  The Indian cautiously passed a candle across my face.  I lay motionless as I had been drugged.  At that he stalked off.  Voices began in the other apartment.  Two or three forms went tip-toeing about the cave.  Shadows passed athwart the flame.  A gust of cold; and with half-closed eyes I saw three men vanish through the outer doorway over fields no longer snow-clad.