Jolly Roger paused long enough to take the cartridges from his gun.  There would be no more shooting’—­on his part.

The mellow autumn sun was flooding the open door of the cabin when he came up.  He heard laughter.  It was Giselle.  She was talking, too.  And then he heard a man’s voice—­and from far off to his right came the chopping of an axe.  Old Robert was at work.  Giselle and Cassidy were at home.

He stepped up to the door, coughing to give notice of his approach.  And then, suddenly, he stopped, staring thunderstruck at what was happening within.

Terence Cassidy was sitting in a big chair.  The girl was behind him.  Her white arms were around his neck, her face was bent down, her lips were kissing him.

In an instant Cassidy’s eyes had caught him.

“Come in,” he cried, so suddenly and so loudly that it startled the girl.  “McKay, come in!”

Jolly Roger entered, and the girl stood up straight behind Cassidy’s chair, her cheeks aflame and her eyes filled with the glow of the sunset.  And Terence Cassidy was grinning in that old triumphant way as he leaned forward in his chair, gripping the arms of it with both hands.

“McKay, you’ve lost,” he cried.  “I’m the winner!”

In the same moment he took the girl’s hand and drew her from behind his chair.

“Giselle, do as you said you were going to do.  Prove to him that I’ve won.”

Slowly she came to Jolly Roger.  Her cheeks were like the red of the sunset.  Her eyes were flaming.  Her lips were parted.  And dumbly he waited, and wondered, until she stood close to him.  Then, swiftly, her arms were around his neck, and she kissed him.  In an instant she was back on her knees at the wounded man’s side, her burning face hidden against him, and Cassidy was laughing, and holding out both hands to McKay.

“McKay, Roger McKay, I want you to meet Mrs. Terence Cassidy, my wife,” he said.  And the girl raised her face, so that her shining eyes were on Jolly Roger.

Still dumbly he stood where he was.

“The Missioner from Du Brochet was here yesterday, and married us,” he heard Cassidy saying.  “And we’ve written out my resignation together, old man.  We’ve both won.  I thank God you put that bullet into me down on the shore, for it’s brought me paradise.  And here’s my hand on it, McKay—­forever and ever!”

Half an hour later, when McKay stumbled out into the forest trail again, his eyes were blinded by tears and his heart choked by a new hope as big as the world itself.  Yellow Bird was right, and God must have been with her that night when her soul went to commune with Nada’s.  For Yellow Bird had proved herself again.  And now he believed her.

He believed in the world again.  He believed in love and happiness and the glory of life, and as he went down the narrow trail to his canoe, with Peter close behind him, his heart was crying out Nada’s name and Yellow Bird’s promise that sometime—­somewhere—­ they two would find happiness together, as Giselle and Terence Cassidy had found it.