“So you won’t take it, then?” There was a note of disappointment in the trapper’s voice.
“No, I could not think of doing such a thing.”
“Will you keep it, then, until I come back? I am going to leave early in the morning, and may not return for several days. I am afraid of losing it on the trail.”
“I don’t mind doing that,” the missionary agreed. “It should be safe here, for I have few visitors, and the one I had last night is not likely to come again.”
He took the ring in his hand and examined it closely. He noted the flashing lustre of the diamond when the light of the candle fell upon it.
“I wonder what fair finger this once encircled,” he mused, as if to himself. “It’s a symbol of that life of which I was once so fond. It brings back old memories which I thought I had forever forgotten. But I left all those things behind when I enlisted beneath the Banner of the Cross.”
“Are you happier now than you were then?” Hugo asked.
“I have never really thought about it in that way,” was the reply. “But I know I am, for I am in possession of a Great Treasure which gives me peace in times of storm, and joy in the midst of tribulation. A man who once has that need never worry about losing the things of the world.”
“I believe you are right,” Hugo fervently replied, as he returned to his seat by the fire, and continued his smoke.
