ous mind,
a strong arm, and was the universal lover. The Cure, who did not, of
course, know one-fourth of his wildness, had a warm spot for him in his
heart. But there was a vicious strain in him somewhere, and it came out
one day in a perilous fashion.

There was in the hotel of the Louis Quinze an English servant from the
west, called Nell Barraway. She had been in a hotel in Montreal, and
it was there Fabian had seen her as she waited at table. She was a
splendid-looking creature--all life and energy, tall, fair-haired, and
with a charm above her kind. She was also an excellent servant, could
do as much as any two women in any house, and was capable of more airy
diablerie than any ten of her sex in Pontiac. When Fabian had said to
her in Montreal that he would come to see her again, he told her where
he lived. She came to see him instead, for she wrote to the landlord of
the Louis Quinze, enclosed fine testimonials, and was at once engaged.
Fabian was stunned when he entered the Louis Quinze and saw her waiting
at table, alert, busy, good to behold. She nodded at him with a quick
smile as he stood bewildered just inside the door, then said in English:
"This way, m'sieu'."

As he sat down he said in English also, with a laugh and with snapping
eyes: "Good Lord, what brings you here, lady-bird?"

As she pushed a chair under him she whispered through his hair: "You!"
and then was gone away to fetch pea-soup for six hungry men.

The Louis Quinze did more business now in three months than it had done
before in six. But it became known among a few in Pontiac that Nell was
notorious. How it had crept up from Montreal no one guessed, and, when
it did come, her name was very intimately associated with Fabian's. No
one could say that she was not the most perfect of servants, and also no
one could say that her life in Pontiac had not been exemplary. Yet wise
people had made up their minds that she was determined to marry
Fabian, and the wisest declared that she would do so in spite of
everything--religion (she was a Protestant), character, race. She was
clever, as the young Seigneur found, as the little Avocat was forced to
admit, as the Cure allowed with a sigh, and she had no airs of badness
at all and very little of usual coquetry. Fabian was enamoured, and it
was clear that he intended to bring the woman to the Manor one way or
another.

Henri admitted the fascination of the woman, felt it, despaired, went
to Montreal