in his short life he had seen grief and tears in Nada’s face, and had seen her cringe and hide herself at the vile cursing and witch-like voice of the man and woman back in the other cabin.  But there was nothing like that in Jolly Roger’s company.  He had two eyes, and he was not always cursing, and he did not pull Nada’s hair—­and Peter loved him from the bottom of his soul.  And he knew that his mistress loved him, for she had told him so, and there was always a different look in her eyes when she was with Jolly Roger, and it was only then that she laughed in that glad little way—­as she was laughing now.

Jolly Roger was seated at the table, and Nada stood behind him, her face flushed joyously at the wonderful privilege of pouring his coffee.  And then she sat down, and Jolly Roger gave her the nicest of the partridge breasts, and tried hard to keep his eyes calm and quiet as he looked at the adorable sweetness of her across the table from him.  To Nada there was nothing of shame in what lay behind the happiness in the violet radiance of her eyes.  Jolly Roger had brought to her the only happiness that had ever come into her life.  Next to her God, which Jed Hawkins and his witch-woman had not destroyed within her, she thought of this stranger who for three months had been hiding in Indian Tom’s cabin.  And, like Peter, she loved him.  The innocence of it lay naked in her eyes.

“Nada,” said Jolly Roger.  “You’re seventeen—­”

“Goin’ on eighteen,” she corrected quickly.  “I was seventeen two weeks ago!”

The quick, undefined little note of eagerness in her voice made his heart thump.  He nodded, and smiled.

“Yes, going on eighteen,” he said.  “And pretty soon some young fellow will come along, and see you, and marry you—­”

“O-o-o-h-h-h!”

It was a little, strange cry that came to her lips, and Jolly Roger saw a quick throbbing in her bare throat. and her eyes were so wide-open and startled as she looked at him that he felt, for a moment, as if the resolution in his soul was giving way.

“Where are you goin’, Mister Roger?”

“Me?  Oh, I’m not going anywhere—­not for a time, at least.  But you—­you’ll surely be going away with some one—­some day.”

“I won’t,” she denied hotly.  “I hate men!  I hate all but you, Mister Jolly Roger.  And if you go away—­”

“Yes, if I go away—­

“I’ll kill Jed Hawkins!”

Involuntarily she reached out a slim hand to the big gun on the corner of the table.

“I’ll kill ’im, if you go away,” she threatened again, “He’s broken his wife, and crippled her, and if it wasn’t for her I’d have gone long ago.  But I’ve promised, and I’m goin’ to stay—­ until something happens.  And if you go—­now—­”

At the choking throb in her throat and the sudden quiver that came to her lips, Jolly Roger jumped up for the coffee pot, though his cup was still half full.