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“He cares nothing for me,” answered the girl quickly.

“He shan’t have a chance to care, if I know myself. You’re free to say ‘no’ to me, Rosie, but you aint free to say [‘]yes’ to him. A regular coward! That’s what he is. Why, he ran away from my dog this very afternoon–ran like he was scared to death!”

“You set the dog on him, Steve.”

“Well, what if I did? He needn’t have run; any other man would have sent the beast flying.”

“Now, Steve, do promise me that you won’t tease him any more,” said the girl, laying her hand upon the man’s arm as he walked by her side. His face softened.

“If he had any spirit he’d be ashamed to have a girl beggin’ for him not to be teased. But never mind that; I’ll let him alone fast enough, Rosie, if you will too.”

“If I will,” repeated the girl, drawing back, as he drew closer to her side; “what can you mean?”

“Oh, come now! You know very well you’re always after him–a-goin’ to his chapel where no one else goes hardly–a-listenin’ to his preachin’–and a-havin’ your picture hung up in his room.”

It was a random shaft, sent carelessly, more to finish the sentence with a strong point than from any real belief in the athlete’s mind.

“What!”

“Leastways so Mrs. Malone said. I took breakfast there this morning.”

The girl was thrown off her guard, her whole face flushed with joy, she could not for the moment hide her agitation.”My picture!” she murmured, and clasped her hands. The light from the Pine-Cone crossed her face, and revealed the whole secret; Steven Long saw it, and fell into a rage. After all, then, she did love the puny parson!

“Let him look out for himself, that’s all,” he muttered with a fierce gesture, as he turned towards the saloon door. (He felt a sudden thirst for vengeance, and for whisky).”I’ll be even with him, and I won’t be long about it neither. You’ll never have the little parson alive, Rose Ray! He’ll be found missin’ some fine mornin’, and nobody will be to blame but you either.” He disappeared, and the girl stood watching the spot where his dark, angry face had been. After a time she went slowly homeward, troubled at heart; there was neither law nor order at Algonquin, and not without good cause did she fear.

The next morning, as the parson was coming from his solitary matin-service through thick-falling snow, this girl met him, slipped a note into his hand, and disappeared like a vision. The parson went homeward, carrying the folded paper under his cloak pressed close to his heart; “I am only keeping it dry,” he murmured to himself. This was the note:

“RESPECTED SIR:

“I must see you, you air in danger. Please come to the Grotter this afternoon at three and I remain yours respectful,

“Rose Ray.”

The Reverend Herman Warriner Peters read these words over and over; then he went to breakfast, but ate nothing, and, coming back to his room, he remained the whole morning motionless in his chair. At first the red flamed in his cheek, but gradually it faded, and gave place to a pinched pallor; he bowed his head upon his hands, communed with his own heart, and was still. As the dinner-bell rang he knelt down on the cold hearth, made a little funeral pyre of the note torn into fragments, watched it slowly consume, and then, carefully collecting the ashes, he laid them at the base of the large cross.

At two o’clock he set out for the Grotto, a cave two miles from the village along the shore, used by the fishermen as a camp during the summer. The snow had continued falling, and now lay deep on the even ground; the pines were loaded with it, and everything was white save the waters of the bay, heaving sullenly, dark and leaden, as though they knew the icy fetters were nearly ready for them. The parson walked rapidly along in his awkward, halting gait; overshoes he had none, and his cloak was but a sorry substitute for the blankets and skins worn by the miners. But he did not feel cold when he opened the door of the little cabin which had been built out in front of the cave, and found himself face to face with the beautiful girl who had summoned him there. She had lighted a fire of pine knots on the hearth, and set the fishermen’s rough furniture in order; she had cushioned a chair-back with her shawl and heated a flat stone for a foot-warmer.