But Jolly Roger turned again to the stove, and made as if he had not seen the blush or heard her last words, so that the shame of her embarrassment was gone as quickly as it had come.
"Yes, I'll keep Peter," he said over his shoulder.

And in his heart another voice which she could not hear, was crying, "And I'd give my life if I could keep you!" Devouring his bits of partridge breast, Peter watched Jolly Roger and Nada out of the corner of his eye as they left the cabin half an hour later.

It was dark when they went, and Jolly Roger closed only the mosquito-screen, leaving the door wide open, and Peter could hear their footsteps disappearing slowly into the deep gloom of the forest.

It was a little before moonrise, and under the spruce and cedar and thick balsam the world was like a black pit.

It was very still, and except for the soft tread of their own feet and the musical ripple of water in the creek there was scarcely a sound in this first hour of the night.