Barbara laughed. "Pshaw!" she said. "You had a much better reason than that. Now I think we were what might be called good comrades in the bush?" Again Brooke felt a little thrill of pleasure. The girl sat where the dim light that still came in through the open window fell upon her, and she was very alluring with the faint smile, which was, nevertheless, curiously expressive, in her eyes. "Yes," he said, almost grimly, "I had a better reason. I cannot tell you what it was, but it may become apparent presently." Barbara asked no more questions, and while she sat silent, Mrs. Devine came in with a little dainty silver set on a tray. Maids of any kind, and even Chinese house-boys, are scarce in that country, especially in the bush, and Brooke realized that it must have been with her own hands she had prepared the quite unusual meal. Supper is served at six or seven o'clock through most of Canada. Probably the stove was burning, and her task was but a light one, but once more Brooke was sensible of a most unpleasant embarrassment when she smiled at him. "Barbara and I got used to taking a cup of coffee in the evening when we were in England," she said. "Talking of the Old Country reminded me of it. Will you pour it out, Barbara?" Barbara did so, and Brooke's fingers closed more tightly than was necessary on the cup she handed to him, while the cracker he forced himself to eat came near choking him. This was absurd sentimentality, he told himself, but, for all that, he dared scarcely meet the eyes of the lady who had, he realized, prepared that meal out of compliment to him. It was a relief when it was over and he was able to take his leave, but, as it happened, he forgot the plan he had laid down, and Barbara, who noticed it, overtook him in the log-hall. Devine had not come back yet. "We shall be here for some little time--in fact, until Mr. Devine has seen the new adit driven," she said. Brooke understood that this was tantamount to a general invitation, and smiled, as she noticed, somewhat wryly. "I am afraid I shall scarcely venture to come back again," he said. "Mrs. Devine is very kind, but still, you see--it really wouldn't be fitting." Then he turned and vanished into the darkness outside, and Barbara went back to the lighted room with a curious look in her eyes. XII. BROOKE IS CARRIED AWAY. The flume was finished, and the dam already progressing well, when one morning Devine came out, somewhat grim in face, from the new adit he was driving at the Canopus. The captain of the mine also came with him, and stood still, evidently in a state of perplexity, when Devine looked at him. "Well," said the latter, brusquely, "what are we going to do, Wilkins?" The captain blinked at the forest with eyes not yet accustomed to the change of light, as though in search of inspiration, which apparently did not come. "There's plenty timber yonder," he said.