to the fur cap; and presently, as he turned round, he began to sing the
monotonous measure to which the bear had danced. It had at once a
soothing effect upon the beast.

After he had gone from the store-room, leaving Ferrol dead, as he
thought, it was this song alone which had saved himself from peril; for
the beast was wild from pain, fury and the taste of blood. As soon as
they had cleared the farmyard, he had begun this song, and the bear,
cowed at first by the thrusts of its master's pike, quieted to the well-
known ditty.

He approached the bear now, and, stooping, put some of the tar and oil
upon its nose. It sniffed and rubbed off the salve, but he put more on;
then he rubbed it into the wound of the breast. Once the animal made a
fierce snap at his shoulder, but he deftly avoided it, gave it a thrust
with a sharp-pointed stick, and began the song again. Presently he rose
and came towards the fire.

As he did so he heard the door open. Turning round quickly, he saw
Christine standing just inside. She had a shawl thrown round her, and
one hand was thrust in the pocket of her dress. She looked from him to
the bear, then back again to him.

He did not realise why she had come. For a moment, in his excited state,
he almost thought she had come because she loved him. He had seen her
twice since his return; but each time she would say nothing to him
further than that she wished not to meet or to speak to him at all. He
had pleaded with her, had grown angry, and she had left him. Who could
tell--perhaps she had come to him now as she had come to him in the old
days. He dropped the pan of tar and oil. "Chris!" he said, and started