what I think you are."

"What makes you say that?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Certainly."

Jean gazed into the fire for a few minutes, while the man watched her
curiously.

"Go on," he ordered. "Out with it."

"I believe you are trying to be what you are not," the girl bluntly
charged. "At first I thought you were a brute, and I was afraid of
you. But since I have learned what an educated man you are, and
watched you after your outburst about the King and the Loyalists, I
have come to the conclusion that you are fighting against your best
convictions."

"Why, girl, you surprise me!" the man gasped.

"Perhaps so, Mr. Timon. But can you truthfully say that I am not
right? You cannot, and I know that you have nothing in common with
such a creature as that Dave who was here. It isn't natural for a man
like you to be in league with a gang of rebels. There, now, I have
told you what I think, so you can say what you like. I am going to
read the Master's words, for I believe you need them."

Although outwardly calm, Jean's heart was beating fast. She expected