nce
like tiny flecks of gold.

"From your point of view you are right," he repeated, "and I shall make
no attempt to escape until I have talked with St. Pierre. But I can't
quite see--just now--how he is going to help the situation."

"He will," she assured him confidently.

"You seem to have an unlimited faith in St. Pierre," he replied a
little grimly.

"Yes, M'sieu David. He is the most wonderful man in the world. And he
will know what to do."

David shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps, in some nice, quiet place, he
will follow the advice Bateese gave you--tie a stone round my neck and
sink me to the bottom of the river."

"Perhaps. But I don't think he will do that I should object to it."

"Oh, you would!"

"Yes. St. Pierre is big and strong, afraid of nothing in the world, but
he will do anything for me. I don't think he would kill you if I asked
him not to." She turned to resume her task of cleaning up the breakfast
things.

With a sudden movement David swung one of the' big chairs close to her.
"Please sit down," he commanded. "I can talk to you better that way. As
an officer of the law it is my duty to ask you a few questions. It
rests in your power to answer all of them or none of them. I have given
you my word not to act until I have seen St. Pierre, and I shall keep
that promise. But when we do meet I shall act largely on the strength
of what you tell me during the next tea minutes. Please sit down!"

X

In that big, deep chair which must have been St. Pierre's own,
Marie-Anne sat facing Carrigan. Between its great arms her slim little
figure seemed diminutive and out of place. Her brown eyes were level
and clear, waiting. They were not warm or nervous, but so coolly and
calmly beautiful that they disturbed Carrigan. She raised her hands,
her slim fingers crumpling for a moment in the soft, thick coils of her
hair. That little movement, the unconscious feminism of it, the way she
folded her hands in her lap afterward, disturbed Carrigan even more.
What a glory on earth it must be to possess a woman like that! The
thought made him uneasy. And she sat waiting, a vivid, softly-breathing
question-mark against the warm coloring of the upholstered chair.

"When you shot me," he began, "I saw you, first, standing over me. I
thought you had come to finish me. It was then that I saw something in
your face--horror, amazement, as though you had done something you did
not know you were doing. You see