He arose suddenly, went to Mr. Radhurst's side, and watched him for a short time.
"Pardon me, Miss Radhurst," he said, turning toward her. "Your father is resting more comfortably. Please go on."
"After we had waited for some time," continued Constance, "and no word came from Kenneth, my father became very impatient. He wished to leave for the Yukon, not only to find my brother, but the gold mine as well.
"The lure of gold filled his mind, making him a changed man. Formerly he took an interest in many things, such as religion, politics, social matters, and was a great reader. All these he gradually relinquished, and he talked of nothing but gold, and how he would obtain it. At length he determined to follow up the quest himself. We did what we could to turn him from the idea, but the more his trusty friends reasoned, the more obdurate he became. Finding that nothing would change his mind, I decided to cast in my lot with his, go with him and take care of him as well as I could.
"We travelled by the way of St. Michael, and came to Klassan last Fall in a fur-trading steamer. There we built a little cabin, in which we intended to spend the winter. But the gold fever had still a terrible grip over my poor father. Just when we were quite comfortably settled, he had a dream, in which he saw men carrying away the gold he hoped to obtain. I really believe his mind was somewhat unbalanced, for nothing would do but that we must set out at once. We came this far, when, finding it impossible to proceed farther, we took refuge in this abandoned cabin. Here we have remained ever since, and but for the kindness of Old Pete, and several of his companions, I verily believe we should have frozen or starved.
"And you should have seen the considerate manner in which the kindness was always bestowed. Sometimes they would have too much moose-meat, fish, or grouse on hand, 'and would we take just a little to keep it from spoiling.' My father knows very little about hunting, but one day Pete took him into the woods after a moose. The animal was killed, and Pete would insist that my father had shot it, and, of course, he came in for a liberal portion of the game. I wish you knew what that man has done for us. He has——"
Constance was interrupted by a knock upon the door, and when it was opened they beheld the object of their conversation standing before them. He was carrying something in his hand, covered with a cloth, old and worn, but perfectly clean.
"Thar," he remarked, placing his load upon the table. "I knowed ye'd be hungry, laddie, after yer long mush, an' mebbe, lassie, ye'll have a snack, too."
Constance glanced at Keith, as much as to say, "Didn't I tell you so? It's Old Pete's way."
When the cloth had been withdrawn a most appetizing repast was exposed to view. A prospector's gold-pan served as a tray, which contained a piece of tender moose-meat, nicely browned, some beans, a loaf of sourdough bread, and a pot of steaming tea. Pete did not tell that he had gone without bread and tea for weeks that he might have a little for the "Colonel" and Constance, whom he had intended to invite to his cabin for Christmas dinner. The bread he had made the day before, with a deep joy in his honest heart at the pleasure he imagined it would give the lonely ones.