the tea exceptionally strong to soothe his nerves. After he had eaten his meagre meal, he filled and lighted his pipe. He then smoked and watched as the slow-footed hours dragged wearily by. He was anxious to be away upon his journey, but he did not wish to awaken the child.
Once he thrust his right hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and brought forth the ring. The diamond still fascinated him, though not as formerly. He was master of himself now, and could examine the precious gem more calmly. Its possession gave him a thrill of pleasure, even though he knew that it was not his. What would he do with it? An idea flashed into his mind, which caused him to glance toward the child.
“No, not now,” he mused. “I must wait. It might get into wrong hands.”
This decision seemed to satisfy him, so he replaced the ring, and continued his watch.
The dawn of a new day was stealing slowly over the land as Hugo resumed his journey. At noon he halted to feed the child, and to eat his own meal. Then up and on again through the short afternoon. He thought much of what had occurred during the night, and the vision he had beheld inspired him. His step was firmer and more decided than on the previous day. The coldness did not seem so intense, and the Golden Horn appeared to take on a brighter glow. When darkness enshrouded the land he again halted to feed the baby. This took but a short time, and once more he sped forward. Kynox was not far away, and he wished to make it that night.
Hour after hour he moved onward, though slower now, for the trail was heavy and he was becoming very weary. No longer did the Golden Horn direct his
