His arms had tightened so suddenly that the little cry came from her.

“And yet—­I may have to leave you for a little time, Nada.  But it will not be for long.  What are five years, when all life reaches out a paradise before us?  They are nothing—­nothing—­and will pass swiftly—­”

“Yes, they will pass swiftly,” she said, so gently that scarce did he hear.

But on his breast she gave a little sob which would not choke itself back, a sob which bravely she smiled through a moment later, and which he—­knowing that it was best—­made as if he had not heard.

And so, this night, while Father John and Peter waited and watched in the cabin, did they plan their future in the company of the stars.

CHAPTER XX

The Sabbath was a day of glory and peace in the Burntwood country.  The sun rose warm and golden, the birds were singing, and never had the air seemed sweeter to Father John when he came out quietly from the cabin and breathed it in the early break of dawn.  Best of all he loved this very beginning of day, before darkness was quite gone, when the world seemed to be awakening mid sleepy whisperings and sounds came clearly from a long distance.

This morning he heard the barking of a dog, a mile away it must have been, and Peter, who followed close beside him, pricked up his ears at the sound of it.  Father John had noted Peter’s vigilance, the cautious expectancy with which he was always sniffing the air, and the keen alertness of his eyes and ears.  McKay had explained the reason for it.  And this morning, as they made their way down to the pool at the creekside, Peter’s ceaseless watching for danger held a deeper significance for Father John.  All through the night, in spite of his faith and his words of consolation, he was thinking of the menace which was following McKay, and which eventually must catch up with him.

And yet, how short a time was five years!  Looking backward, each five years of his life seemed but a yesterday.  It was eight times five years ago that a sweet-faced girl had first filled his life, as Nada filled Jolly Roger’s now, and through the thirty years since he had lost her he could still hear her voice as clearly as though he had held her in his arms only a few hours ago, so swift had been the passing of time.  But looking ahead, and not backward, five years seemed an eternity of time, and the dread of it was in Father John’s heart as he stood at the side of the pool, with the first pink glow of sunrise coming to him over the forest-tops.