As Dane paced up and down thinking of these things, his mother's words flashed into his mind. "Be always loyal to God and the King above all things," she had impressed upon him. "The King is God's anointed one, and he rules by divine right." Dane had never doubted this, neither did he do so now. But he had since learned that love, too, is a divine thing, and cannot lightly be disobeyed. What is the King to me? he asked himself. A mere name. But Jean is a living reality. The King lives in luxury, and has millions to look after his interests. But Jean is now wandering somewhere in the wilderness, in great need, and with no one to help her. Why should I not go to her first of all? I can live without the King, but not without Jean.
The more he thought, the fiercer became the battle. Night had closed around him, and the steadily increasing nor'east wind sang the prelude of a coming storm. Dane glanced at the moon riding high above the tops of the pointed trees. He knew the meaning of its overcast appearance, and the circle which surrounded it. There was no time to be lost. He must decide at once. But which should it be? Pete was asleep, and the fire was low. Mechanically he stooped and threw a few sticks upon the hot coals. As the flames leaped up they illuminated the ground for some distance around. They brought into clear relief the line made by the Indian upon the sand. This primitive symbol arrested his attention, and a sudden fancy entered his mind. Picking up a small stick, he wrote in the sand on the south of the line the word "King," and on the north "Jean." These he compared with critical eyes.
"Same number of letters in each," he mused. "One stands for duty, the other for love. K-i-n-g, J-e-a-n," he spelled. "They both sound good, and have a fine ring about them. I am bound to both, and must decide now. Oh, Lord, which shall it be!"
The perspiration stood out in beads upon his forehead, so intense was his emotion.
"I can't decide against Jean!" he groaned. "And I can't be disloyal to the King!"
Again his mother's words came to his mind. "Be loyal to God and the King above all things." How would she choose if she were in his place? Yes, he knew. Not for an instant would she have hesitated. For a few minutes he stood staring straight before him. His face was pale, and his hands clenched hard, and his lips were firmly compressed. At length he turned, walked over to where Pete was lying, and touched him upon the shoulder. The Indian opened his eyes and looked around.
"Come, Pete, it's time we were away."
"Where, Dane?"
"Down to the Fort."
"Geeve up white woman, eh?"