s stronghold at the Penobscot, and a few days after he disappeared,
Charles La Tour returned from Boston with an abundant supply of
munitions of war, and a strong party of men.

His joy at the successful defence of the fort, and his pride in his
heroic wife, was somewhat clouded by his disappointment at being too
late to complete Charnace's rout by capturing or burning his ships, but
Madame did not hesitate to reprove him for this.

"God has been very good to us all," she said, "and we cannot be
sufficiently grateful. Let us unite in thanking Him for His great
mercy."

And so a thanksgiving service was held in which all joined heartily,
and then followed a feast, the like of which Fort La Tour had never
seen before.

A month later, La Tour, having set everything in order, and put Simon
Imbert in charge in his place, took ship for France, his wife and Raoul
going with him. His purpose was to plead his own cause before the
French king, and to have Charnace enjoined from further hostility. In
this he was not altogether successful, and there were dark days in
store for both him and Constance.

But in these Raoul did not share, because he remained in France, where
a career unexpectedly opened for him. What befell him in the future,
his successes and failures, his joys and sorrows, his trials and his
triumphs, cannot be related here; but this must be told, that through
them he never was false to his Huguenot faith, and that he won for
himself a place of honour in the history of his country.

* * * * *

BEFRIENDED BY BRUIN

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

One of the noble families of Lorraine has a curious crest. It
represents a big black bear in an iron cage, and recalls the legend as
to the founding of the fortunes of the house, which runs somewhat in
this way.

Several centuries ago there lived in the city of Nancy a little
Savoyard named Michel, whose lot was certainly about as hard as a
ten-year-old boy could endure without giving up life altogether. He
was a homeless orphan, dependent entirely upon the alms of the
charitable, for which he begged through the stony streets. A more
pitiable appearance than he presented could scarcely be imagined.
Privation and hunger had blanched his cheeks and shrunken his form.
With his haggard face, half hidden by long disordered locks of a
slightly reddish tinge, his bones showing through the thin ragged
garments from which the sun and rain had tak