A Gentleman of Courage

ly mellow the memory of its loneliness and its torture. In the hours when it seemed to him his world had come to an end, years pressed their weight of ex

for a moment before saying good night; and in going, with his head and shoulders above the trap in the floor, he had paused for a moment

he ha

e moon was coming up over the eastern forests. It was a splendid spring moon, big and round

ounted six or seven of the dozen log homes which made up the little settlement, and their windows were dark. They were floating

the rocks half a mile away. In springtime there was always this moaning of

times it hurt him. It rose up in him somewhere and choked him. Once o

derstanding and grief. Out under that moon his father was being hunted. Men were after him-men who would kill him or hang h

the sweet breath of her kisses in his sleep. In his brain he treasured a picture of her, but it was only a picture, while his father had been very real. Since the first day he could remember, it was his father who had made up his w

heir home. After that had come the longer flight, two days and nights of exhaustion and hunger, and the final parting when they heard the axes of the men at Five Fingers. It was when he came to that point his heart rose up and choked him, and he wanted to cry out in the stillness of the night. If only his father had put greater faith in his st

most unexpected and beautiful way, and had helped him whip the beast of a boy who had kicked her dog. He could still feel the warm thrill of he

come back. But mine can't, Peter.

she realized in that instant the sacredness of the trust he had put in her.

o that sound, so faint at times that it was like a breath of air. It must haunt her, he thought. It was always telling her about what had happened, just as she had told it to him, coming down

rre and Josette Gourdon, where Mona lived. That was dark, too. But Mona might be awake. He hoped so. Next to his father she was the biggest thing that had ever come into his life, and thought of her, and of her nearness,

had come in his mind, that everything ab

tillness, its shadows and floods of yellow moonlight brough

e that," his father had told him. "It came in at th

is eyes and an odd twist to his mouth, as if he were winking at Peter and telling him how beautifully everything was coming out, both for his father and for himself. Between Mona and the moon t

utter of its wings as it twisted and turned and disappeared, more like a ghost than a living thing. And then a swift patter of little feet came on the roof of the cabin. It was another o

nal soft thud of hoofs in the meadow, and the mooing of a cow. A loon sent out its quavering love call from somewhere beyond the dark wall of the forest, and a wolf howled to

ut of Peter's face, and his eyes brightened in the moonglow, and he pursed up his lips to whistle down softly at Porky. He wanted to warn him of the doom which Mona had said hovered over all porcupines at Five Fingers. But the creature was deaf and dumb and blind. He fo

orky!" he c

rcupine, a huge, black fellow who was carrying on an animated debate with himself as he advanced. Peter grinned. He loved to hear the porcupines talk to themselves. But he had never hea

e was between them, a sweet morsel for porcupine teeth. Low, throaty sounds floated up to Peter. It might have

ll of excitement through Peter. It was a glorious fight from the beginning, and somehow the big black fell

d he heard loose quills flying against th

was more than ever like Aleck Curry, got a swing from the gray's tail that must hav

oom below him. A door opened. In another moment

o his knees, and in his hand he carried a club. The club rose and fell

ite one!" he cried

w in surprise. Peter saw the gray porcupine ambling back toward the timber,

ter. "That black one was Aleck Curry, and the

lent in the moonlight. Then he ask

ok his he

e you bee

king at t

with a suspicious u

und the end of the cabin, his scant nightgown flapping above his long and bony legs, Simon muttered under his

ent at his door to look across the open where[96] Pierre Gourdon's home lay in the radiance of the night

oth of them," he said,

comforting about the moon. He closed his eyes, and his thoughts no longer brought a lump into his throat or hurt him. It was as if an older mind were helping him over certain difficult place

ck Curry with his ugly face and big, heavy body, but they relaxed when he visioned Mona as she had taken part in the fight, with her shining black hair streaming about her and flaming eyes so beautiful he had at first been afraid to look at them. In his life in the wilderness he had never ha

eck was bigger and older than he, and that he had fought under the disadvantages of hunger and exhaustion, did not satisfactorily explain his own failure to Peter. He was glad his father had not seen that fight, even

o out early in the morning, hunt up Aleck Curry and lick him. He was sure he could do it now, even though h

ow of Peter's window. All this Peter missed in an excitement of his own as his unsettled mind traveled swiftly from one dream to another. First he was fleeing with his father, and they were pursued by a horde of enemies, and all of these enemi

now filled the room a miracle of change passed over his face and it became as gentle as a wo

imself, in a moment when Peter's pale face lay quie

hardened his heart against all hope for himself in his devotion and duty to his hunted friend, Donald McRae. Only yesterday! And yet many hard and tedious years had passed since then,[99] and through them he had gone like