was a block of
stone. After a moment's hesitation she stood upon this, and, pressing her
face against the window pane, looked her last upon the room she had so
lately left. A low fire upon the hearth, darkly illumined it: he sat by
the table, with his arms outstretched and his head bowed upon them. Audrey
dropped from the stone into the ever growing shadows, crossed the lawn,
slipped below the bank, and took her way along the river edge to the long
landing. When she was half way down its length, she saw that there was a
canoe which she had not observed and that it held one man, who sat with
his back to the shore. With a quick breath of dismay she stood still, then
setting her lips went on; for the more she thought of having to see those
two again, Evelyn and the master of Fair View, the stronger grew her
determination to commence her backward journey alone and at once.

She had almost reached the end of the wharf when the man in the boat stood
up and faced her. It was Hugon. The dusk was not so great but that the
two, the hunter and his quarry, could see each other plainly. The latter
turned with the sob of a stricken deer, but the impulse to flight lasted
not. Where might she go? Run blindly, north or east or west, through the
fields of Westover? That would shortly lead to cowering in some wood or
swamp while the feet of the searchers came momently nearer. Return to the
house, stand at bay once more? With all her strength of soul she put this
course from her.

The quick strife in her mind ended in her moving slowly, as though drawn
by an invisible hand, to the edge of the wharf, above Hugon and his canoe.
She did not wonder to see him there. Every word that Haward had spoken in
the Westover parlor was burned upon her brain, and he had said that he had
come up river with an Indian. This was the Indian, and to hunt her down
those two had joined forces.

"Ma'm'selle Audrey," whispered the trader, staring as at a spirit.

"Yes, Jean Hugon," she answered, and looked down the glimmering reaches of
the James, then at the slender canoe and the deep and dark water that
flowed between the piles. In the slight craft, with that strong man the
river for ally, she were safe as in a tower of brass.

"I am going home, Jean," she said. "Will you row me down the river
to-night, and tell me as we go your stories of the woods and your father's
glories in France? If you speak of other things I will drown myself, for
I am tired of hear