Rough and unfinished in appearance as most of the appointments about the place seemed, there was yet that air of comfort and cleanliness which is the marked characteristic of nearly all Canadian houses. A living-room with a kitchen attached—the walls of which had been rendered smooth with endless coats of whitewash—formed the downstairs apartments. In the centre of the room was a rough deal table, on which a tidy white cloth was being spread by a comely-looking, matronly woman well past forty. A couple of cushioned rocking-chairs stood one on each side of a capacious fireplace, and two or three ordinary chairs, neatly cushioned, against the wall. In one corner was a serviceable chest of drawers, with a few books on the top; whilst in front of the window was a small but substantial-looking table, having all the appearance of being home-made, on which a pot with a flower in it was standing. The floor was painted yellow, and partly covered with rag carpets and rugs.
Seating himself, without waiting for any further invitation, our traveller at once proceeded to divest himself of his boots, preliminary to that rest and ease so necessary after a hard day's ride.
Full justice having been done to the ample provisions spread out before her tired guest, the two men lighted their pipes, and, seating themselves in the rear of the house, on a wooden bench running along the full length of the wall, and commanding an extensive view of the magnificent open country beyond, after a few general observations, the old settler, whose curiosity had been aroused by a few casual remarks which had fallen from his guest, inquired—
"Well, my friend, I do not want to pry into your secrets, but may I ask where you are bound for, and what are your intentions in wandering so far away out of the beaten track of ordinary civilised life?"
"Well, the fact is, I am a wanderer, with little more to call my own than Jacob had when, with a stone for his pillow, he slept peacefully in the open, dreaming of the future and a land beyond. Who I am is of little consequence, since I have disgraced my lineage, sullied a good name, and am now seeking to hide my head somewhere—anywhere—so that I may escape recognition, and if possible live out a life which, opening with promise, is destined to close, as that of all wastrels do, in sorrow and disgust!"
"Come, come, young man,—for you are yet young,—it is neither good nor right that you should talk in such a hopeless or despairing tone; whatever may have been your past—and I do not seek to know it beyond what you may be disposed willingly to reveal—there is time yet before you in which wrong-doing may perhaps be atoned for, and some effort made to redeem the past."
"Ah, if you knew all, I am afraid you would be less disposed to say so."
"Well, let's see now," said Ranger. "What are your plans?—if you have formed any."
"Plans I can scarcely be said to have made, unless to wander aimlessly on until chance puts me on the track of doing something for somebody, which will bring me bread-and-cheese, can be called such. Since landing at Montreal, where I bought my horse and the few things you see I possess, and started off into the interior, I have subsisted occasionally by a few purchases, but mainly on the hospitality which has been freely dispensed at the various farmhouses or settlements I have passed through. I shall continue to pursue this course until chance throws me into the way of some employment which I shall be able to enter into."
"Not a very startling or encouraging prospect," was Ranger's comment; "but since time is not an important object with you under such circumstances, you may as well make a short stay here and have a look round."