"Tell me about your old home," he requested. "Also about the war, and
your coming to this country. It will help to pass the time."

Jean was only too glad to do this, so quietly and simply she told about
her old happy home in Connecticut, her mother's death, the war, and all
that it meant to them, of their arrival at Portland Point, the voyage
up the river, and the settlement in the wilderness. Of Dane Norwood
she did not speak, for it was not her nature to reveal to a stranger
the deep things of the heart. Neither did she mention the rangers and
their march with the men of the settlement against the rebels. A
natural caution restrained her from speaking of this to one who so
hated the Loyalists and King George.

When she had finished she waited for the man to make some remarks.
When, however, he did not speak, she rose, went into the other room,
and busied herself in preparing dinner. It was a simple repast, but it
satisfied the invalid, and he showed his pleasure by a faint smile, the
first that the girl had seen upon his face.

"It is good of you to stay here and wait upon me," he said, "especially
after what I said about the Loyalists and King George. I owe my life
to you, Miss, and I am not ashamed to acknowledge it."

"It was Sam who saved you, Mr. Timon," Jean smilingly replied.

"Ah, yes, in actually shooting the moose. But for you, though, Sam
would not have been on hand at the right minute. It was you who
suggested going to the mast-cutters on behalf of those Loyalists."

"The real credit, then, should be given to the ones who plotted to