Milly even spoke of her brother and deprecated his hatred of Henderson. She did not deny it nor try to excuse it, but her dexterous talk left Jack soothed and feeling that however much her interest in himself was merely friendly, it was certain that she did not share her brother’s contempt for him. The launch had been circling about a half a mile off or so. Now Joao blew a soft low whistle. The coast was clear for them to slip ashore and Jack said goodbye. VI. During the years following his abrupt departure from Rio Henderson flitted about the Southern Hemisphere. He was in Australia, in South Africa, and on many islands, but most of his time was spent in South America, on one side or other of the Andes. In his last venture he saw the face of death near and ugly and felt that he had lost some of his nerve afterward. Likewise, as he himself expressed it, he had made his pile. So he resolved to run no more risks, but to return to his native land and settle down to enjoy his gains. Like many another wanderer he fancied he would like to buy the house in which he had been a happy child and he was not sure but he would find his native town a permanent bourne. He noticed the change in grade of the railroad as his train steamed in. It entered the city now over a viaduct which cleared the streets on trestles and crossed the main thoroughfare on a fine stone arch. Under that arch he passed in the hotel omnibus. Just beyond it he noticed a shop with cages of birds, stuffed animals and a pretty little black kitten just inside the plate glass of the front. He noted the number and meant to return later after he had had his supper. A square or so farther on he saw pass him a handsome open carriage. His heart stood still at sight of the figure in it. Milly saw him and returned his bow with a cordial smile. She was still beautiful, with a full-grown woman’s best charms. Very haughty she looked too, as became the heir of the Wareham fortune. Henderson had heard of her brother’s death sometime before. About sunset John entered the animal-seller’s shop. The kitten was gone. Could not say when it had been sold. Could not say to whom it had been sold. Could not send to the purchaser and try to buy it back. Grumpy and curt replies generally. John left the shop in a bad humor. Flicking with his cane the tall grasses in the neglected spaces before wooden front-yard fences John strolled in the twilight to the old garden. The house was empty again and the garden had run wild. It was not the wilderness he remembered but it had the same outlines and the same general character. His heart warmed over it and memories thronged.