"Why do you call me that?"
"Isn't that your name?"
"Heavens! No. I am Thomas Norman, your father's old friend."
At this confession Jean uttered a cry of amazement, and stared at the man before her. She was almost too confused to think, so overwhelming was her emotion. She felt that she must be dreaming, so wonderful did it all appear.
"Yes," the man continued, "it is better for you to know all, and it relieves my mind. Dane took the first part of his right name, and merely changed the second. Now you understand all."
Jean did understand, and it gave her cause for much thought. She sat down and gazed silently into the fire. How glad her father would be to know that his friend was alive. And yet he would be greatly distressed when he learned that he was a rebel. Could they ever be friends again? she wondered. This modern Timon, with such hatred in his heart to the King and the Loyalists, was not the man her father had known in the days of old. Loyalty with the latter was a vital thing, and how could he endure a man so bitterly opposed to the King?
The invalid surmised her thoughts as he watched her. She presented a charming picture, ensconced in the deep chair, and he could well understand how Dane must love her. He had always longed for a daughter, and of the many girls he had ever known, the one now before him appealed to him most of all. She was the only white woman who had entered his house since his wife's death, and he had been strongly drawn to her from the first time of meeting. Living so much among rough, rebellious men, he had acquired many of their ways. But in the presence of this sweet, gentle girl these had vanished like ice before the bright sun, and the real nobleness of his nature re-asserted itself. He was tired of the life he had been living for years. He longed for companions after his own heart, and a home such as he had known in the past. And what a home the girl before him would make! And reconciled to his only son, what a heaven on earth it would be!
CHAPTER XXVI
BEHIND THE BOLTED DOOR
When Thomas Norman fled with his wife and child from the restraining bonds of civilisation and became the leader of a band of lawless rovers of the wild, he little realised how far-reaching would be the effect of his rash and hasty action. In the spirit of revenge he had sown the wind, but he had forgotten the whirlwind that one day he would be called upon to reap. For a time he had rejoiced in flaming the embers of rebellion against the King, thinking thus to get more than even for his imaginary injury. The war had filled him with delight, and he did everything in his power to arouse the people, both whites and Indians, against King George. For a while he was certain of success, especially when assistance came from the rebelling states in the form of presents for the Indians and a personal letter from General Washington, accompanied by belts of wampum. For a time he made remarkable progress, and so stirred the Indians that at last they started on the warpath against the English. Ninety canoes filled with warriors headed down river to ravage the country around Fort Howe. But they were met by James Simonds, the trader at Portland Point, and a conference was held along the river. Before giving an answer, the head chief, Pierre Tomah, said that he must consult the Divine being. So throwing himself upon his face in the sand, he lay motionless for the space of nearly an hour. Then rising, he informed the other chiefs that he had been advised by the Great Spirit to keep peace with King George's men. After that a treaty was signed at Fort Howe. General Washington's presents were delivered up, the Indians drank the health of the King, they were feasted and presented with numerous gifts. All this was a great blow to Thomas Norman, although he continued to inflame the few Indians who still remained rebellious as well as the renegade white men.