The influence of the Angel's visit lingered with the cook through the remainder of his life, while the men prayed for her frequent return.
She was having a happy time, when McLean came back jubilant, from his trip to the tree.

How jubilant he told only the Angel, for he had been obliged to lose faith in some trusted men of late, and had learned discretion by what he suffered.

He planned to begin clearing out a road to the tree that same afternoon, and to set two guards every night, for it promised to be a rare treasure, so he was eager to see it on the way to the mills.
"I am coming to see it felled," cried the Angel.

"I feel a sort of motherly interest in that tree." McLean was highly amused.

He would have staked his life on the honesty of either the Angel or Freckles; yet their versions of the finding of the tree differed widely.
"Tell me, Angel," the Boss said jestingly.