The bridal pair were at once astonished and gratified by the entertainment offered them in this remote wilderness. There was nothing remarkable in their surroundings at the cabin. The fare provided was of the simplest. The effect on the two visitors was produced wholly by the personality of the man himself. As the men sat in easy communion over their pipes, while Nell listened eagerly, Jim Maxwell, still under the influence of that softer feeling aroused by gratitude to the two who had rescued him, relaxed from the usual aloofness toward his fellows, and talked of many things in a manner of singular charm. Jack Reeves had had excellent advantages in education, before ever the spirit of adventure drove him toward the Arctic. As he perceived the extent of the older man's experience, he plied his host with questions. To these, Jim responded readily—at first from courtesy, and then, moved by patent interest on the part of his hearers, with a certain enthusiasm. He found a long-forgotten pleasure in thus speaking at ease of the things he felt to sympathetic auditors. In the years of his wandering and suffering, the man's nature had deepened and mellowed, even though it was shut within the crust of bitterness. So, to-night, he gave himself unreservedly to this new mood of genial intercourse. He marveled over his own changed mood, but indulged it to the full, nevertheless. In a gentle, unfamiliar fashion, Jim Maxwell was almost happy to-night—almost happy, for the first time in twelve years.
Nell's presence moved him deeply, though she sat silent for the most part. Her close attention was a compliment greater than any words she could have uttered. Jim Maxwell felt this, and yielded to the inspiration of it. He was by no means unaware of the piquant loveliness of the girl. His critical appreciation was betrayed by many swift, penetrating glances at the rapt face. The dusk, lucent beauty of her eyes especially appealed to him. In them, he glimpsed her soul, full of the joy of life, a-thrill with expectation of the happiness that awaited, pure and undaunted by any fear of evil. As he looked on her, Jim's admiring gaze was always a little wistful. Since the tragedy in his life, women had had no interest for him, because he had lost her whom he loved. To-night, somehow, it was different. He felt himself strangely drawn to this unknown girl. His heart stirred toward her. It was not an emotion of which even a bridegroom could complain—it was something utterly untouched by any instinct of sex, something subtle and exquisite. Jim himself could not understand his feeling in the least. Only, he yielded to the spell of it with delight.
The host left his guests in possession, when it came the hour for retiring. He was deaf to their remonstrances, and betook himself to an outbuilding, which had been his first shelter in this place, before the making of the cabin.
Left alone with her husband, Nell spoke musingly, very softly:
"What a wonderful man, Jack! He is the sort of man I should like—" She broke off, staring with vaguely puzzled, unseeing eyes at the glowing stove.
"Now, what do you mean by that?" the bridegroom demanded, with asperity.
Nell aroused from introspection at the shortness of the husband's tone. Then she laughed.
"Don't be absurd, goosie!" she bantered. "I actually believe you'd like to be jealous of the first man I've met on our honeymoon." Her voice softened. "Well, you needn't be. But he is a dear, all the same."
Something in her tone quelled the young husband's impulse of alarm. Straightway, he spoke his own admiration, without further jealousy.
"He sure is a wonder," he declared emphatically. "He's one of the sort who could make himself at home—and make himself the center of attraction, too—anywhere around the world, with high or low or Jack or the game."