Part 5 (2/2)

There was smooth pasture in the valley, broken by dark squares of turnip fields and pale stubble; but here and there the heath appeared again and wild cotton showed faintly white above the black peat-soil

By and by a cross, standing by itself on the lonely hillside, caught Foster's eye, and he asked his companion about it

”The Count's Cross, sir; a courtesy title they held in the next dale

He was killed in a raid on a tower down the water, before the Featherstones came”

”But did they bury hiht by the water of Langrigg, but when they were carrying him home in the mist by the hill road the Scots from the tower overtook them The Count's men ounded and their horses foundered, but the Scots let theo when they found that he was dead About 1300, sir Somebody put up the cross to commemorate it”

”They seem to have been a chivalrous lot,” Foster re would happen nowadays!”

”I'm afraid one couldn't expect it, sir,” the old felloered and Foster sot dark and the valley narrowed

Trees grew in sheltered spots; the faint, delicate tracery of birch branches breaking the solid, black ranks of the firs The road wound along the river, which roared, half seen, in the gloolare of the headlahleaves It was very different froled pine bush of Ontario and the stark bareness of the plains, but it was somehow familiar and Foster felt that he was at hoot thinner as they ran into an opening where the side of the glen fell back Lights twinkled at the foot of a hill, and as they sped on the irregular outline of a house showed against a background of trees It gliht, and then Foster lost it as they ran through a gate into the darkness of a belt of firs A minute or two later, the car slowed and stopped after passing round a bend

A wide door stood hospitably open, and a figure upon the steps cut against the light There were two ot down Foster heard voices that sounded strangely pleasant and refined Then a man whom he could not see well shook hands with hihtness

The hall was large and a fire burned on a deep hearth There were oil laround a broad staircase ran up to a gallery in the gloom Foster, however, had not iven up his hat and coat his host led him towards the fire and two ladies came up He knew one was his partner's h they were like Lawrence he re until he understood its origin Mrs Featherstone had an unentle and her look very friendly; her daughter was tall and Foster thought reh this vanished when she gave hi sray hair, and a lined, brown face, but looked strong and carried himself well

Foster, who liked them at once, wondered rather anxiously whether he had pleased or disappointed theined that they would reserve their opinion They were, of course, not the people to shohat they thought, and if he had felt any embarrassment, they would have kno to put him at his ease Still his type was, no doubt, new to theht jar He did not remember what they said, but they soer but a friend who had a claim, and when he went to his room he kneould enjoy his stay with Featherstone's people

VI

HIS COMRADE'S STORY

Foster spent the most part of the next day in the open air with his host Featherstone had a quiet, genial h he held the narros that solish prejudices and Foster did not think him clever With his rather sensitive pride and fastidiousness he was certainly not the an to understand certain traits of his coh he had keener intelligence, was not quite so fine a type as his father, and in consequence stood rough wear better But he too, in spite of his physical courage, now and then showed a supine carelessness and tried to avoid, instead of boldly grappling with, things that jarred

They set out to go shooting, but Featherstone stopped to talk to everybody they met, and showed keen interest in such matters as the turnip crop and the price of sheep It was clear that he was liked and respected Soates and blocked ditches, and co and the burden of taxes The latter soon gathered that there was not much profit to be derived from a small moorland estate and his host was far from rich It looked as if it had cost him, and perhaps his family, some self-denial to send the money that had once or twice enabled Lawrence, and Foster with hiiven a better lunch than Foster had often been satisfied with at a lonely farm, where Featherstone spoke of hienuous pride in ave Foster a hint that he acted on later They, however, shot a brace of partridges in a turnip field, a widgeon that rose fro out of a holly thicket in a bog It was a day of glea showers, andthe long slopes in transient brightness, checkered with the green of mosses and the red of withered fern The sky cleared as they turned holow spread across the west

Tea was brought theed his clothes, which was a rare luxury in Canada, sat with much content in a corner by the hearth He had been out in the raind long enough to enjoy the rest and warlish ladies added to the char, but Alice talked to her father about the shooting and what he had noted on the farht her cleverer than the others, but it was obvious that her interest was not forced She understood agriculture and her reularly shrewd

In a sense, this was puzzling, for she had, in an extra degree, the fastidious refinehtiness Although she often slance was steady and level Alice was tall, with unusually regular features, brown eyes, and brown hair, but Foster could not analyze her charthened by a hint of reserve He was in the glow of the fire, and ihtful scrutiny

The rooht, and the red glow outside filled the large oblong of the caseainst the lurid color and Foster, looking out, saw the radiance strike through the straight rows of trunks

”So the trees

”Yes, in a way, but there's a difference,” Foster replied ”In eastern Manitoba and Ontario the bush is choked and tangled, and runs nearly eight hundred miles The small pines are half burned in places; in others they're wrecked and rotten, and lean across each other as if they were drunk Then you can travel all day without finding an opening, unless it's a lonely lake or a river tu,” Mrs Featherstone remarked ”We e”

”The curious thing is that it doesn't feel strange All I've seen so far, including the Garth, seems falish and were, I dare say, brought up in the country and used to our lance at him and felt he must be frank