He tried to laugh, but there was a tremble in his voice, a break
in the humor he attempted to force.

Kent listened to the tramp of his heavy feet as they went down the
hall.





CHAPTER III


Again the world came back to Kent, the world that lay just beyond
his open window. But scarcely had O'Connor gone when it began to
change, and in spite of his determination to keep hold of his
nerve Kent felt creeping up with that change a thing that was
oppressive and smothering. Swiftly the distant billowings of the
forests were changing their tones and colors under the darkening
approach of storm. The laughter of the hills and ridges went out.
The shimmer of spruce and cedar and balsam turned to a somber
black. The flashing gold and silver of birch and poplar dissolved
into a ghostly and unanimated gray that was almost invisible. A
deepening and somber gloom spread itself like a veil over the
river that only a short time before had reflected the glory of the
sun in the faces of dark-visaged men of the Company brigade. And
with the gloom came steadily nearer a low rumbling of thunder.

For the first time since the mental excitement of his confession
Kent felt upon him an appalling loneliness. He still was not