"I thought not of words, but of"-- "But of deeds," Haward finished for him.

"Rather, I imagine, of one deed." Composed as ever in voice and manner, he drew out his watch, and held it aslant that the light might strike upon the dial.

"'T is after six," he remarked as he put it away, "and I am yet a mile from the house." The wine that he had poured for himself had been standing, untouched, upon the keg beside him.

He took it up and drank it off; then wiped his lips with his handkerchief, and passing the storekeeper with a slight inclination of his head walked toward the door.

A yard beyond the man who had so coolly shown his side of the shield was a rude table, on which were displayed hatchets and hunting knives.