es he
caught a strange little tremor of her white shoulders, as though a
sudden chill had passed through her. He discovered, too, that Pierre
was observing these things, and that there was something forced in the
half-breed's cheerfulness. But D'Arcambal and Otille seemed completely
oblivious of any change. Their happiness overflowed. Philip thought of
his last supper at Churchill, with Eileen Brokaw and her father. Miss
Brokaw had acted strangely then, and had struggled to hide some secret
grief or excitement, as Jeanne was struggling now.

He was glad when the meal was finished, and the master of Fort o' God
rose from his seat. At D'Arcambal's movement his eyes caught Jeanne's,
and then he saw that Pierre was looking sharply at him.

"Jeanne owes you an apology--and an explanation, M'sieur Philip," said
D'Arcambal, resting a hand upon Jeanne's head. "We are going to retire,
and she will initiate you into the fold of Fort o' God."

Pierre and Otille followed him from the room. For the first time in an
hour Jeanne laughed frankly at Philip.

"There isn't much to explain, M'sieur Philip," she said, rising from
her seat. "You know pretty nearly all there is to know about Fort o'
God now. Only I am sure that I did not appear to value your confidence
very much--a little while ago. It must have seemed ungrateful in me,
indeed, to have told you so little about myself and my home, after what
you did for Pierre and me. But I have father's permission now. It is
the second time that he has ever given it to me."

"And I don't want to hear," exclaimed Philip, bluntly. "I have been
more or less of a brute, Miss Jeanne. I know enough about Fort o' God.
It is a glorious place. You owe me nothing, and for that reason--"

"But I insist," interrupted the girl. "Do you mean to say that you do
not care to listen, when this is the second time in my life that I have
had the opportunity of talking about my home? And the first--didn't
give me any pleasure. This will."

A shadow came into Jeanne's eyes. She motioned him to a seat beside her
in front of the fire. Her nearness, the touch of her dress, the sweet
perfume of her presence, thrilled him. He felt that the moment was near
when the whole world as he knew it was to slip away from him, leaving
him in a paradise, or a chaos of despair. Jeanne looked up at the
dueling pistols. The firelight trembled in the soft folds of lace over
her bosom; it glistened in her hair, and lighted her fa