But he did not avail himself of the privilege, for the present, preferring to sit by the fire, where he saw pictures of Wareville and those whom he loved.

Then he had a swift twinge of conscience.

When they heard they would grieve deep and long for him and one, his mother, would never forget.

He should have sought more eagerly to escape, and he glanced quickly about him, but there was no chance.

However careless the warriors might seem there was always one between him and the forest.