CHAPTER I.
THE HAND THAT BECKONED.
It was evening.

Caius was watering his father's horses.

Between the barns and the house the space was grass; a log fence divided it, and against this stood a huge wooden pump and a heavy log hollowed out for a trough.

House and barns were white; the house was large, but the barns were many times larger.

If it had not been that their sloping roofs of various heights and sizes formed a progression of angles not unpleasant to the eye, the buildings would have been very ugly; but they had also a generous and cleanly aspect which was attractive.
Caius brought the horses to the trough in pairs, each with a hempen halter.