The dry birch burst into flame, and for half an hour he sat staring into it with almost unseeing eyes.
He knew that Jean would keep his word--that even now he was possibly on the fresh trail that led through the forest.

For him there was something about the half-breed now that was almost omniscient.

In him Philip had seen incarnated the things which made him feel like a dwarf in manhood.

In those few moments close to the graves, Jean had risen above the world.

And Philip believed in him.