gh
leagues of forest and across oceans of sand, hopeful at the least to
gain a smile of welcome from your lips. Know you not I am here, at the
very end of the world, for you?"

"I think it not altogether unlikely," she replied with calmness. "You
have ever been of a nature to do strange things, yet it has always been
of your own sweet will. Surely, Monsieur, I did never bid you come, or
promise you a greeting."

"No," he admitted regretfully, "'t is, alas, true,"; and his eyes
seemed to regain something of their old audacity. "But there was that
about our parting,--you recall it, Toinette, in the shadow of the
castle wall?--which did afford me hope. No one so fair as you can be
without heart."

She laughed softly, as though his words recalled memories of other
days, pressing back her hair within its ribbon.

"Such art of compliment seems more in place at Montreal than here.
This is a land of deeds, not words, Monsieur. Yet, even though I
confess your conclusion partially true, what cause does it yield why
you should seek a quarrel with my good friend, John Wayland?"

"You know him, then?" he asked, in quick astonishment.

"Know him! Do you think I should be here otherwise? Fie, Captain de
Croix, that you, the very flower of the French court, should express so
poor a thought of one you profess to respect so highly!"

He looked from one to the other of us, scarce knowing whether she were
laughing at him or not.

"_Sacre_!" he exclaimed at last. "I believe it not, Mademoiselle. The
boy would have boasted of such an acquaintance long before this. You
know him, you say,--for how long?"

"Since yester even, if you must know. But he has a face, Monsieur, a
face frank and honest, not like that of a man long trained at courts to
deceive. 'T is for that I trust him, and have called him friend."

"You may rue the day."

"No, Captain de Croix," she exclaimed, proudly. "I know the
frontiersmen of my father's blood. They are brave men, and true of
heart. This John Wayland is of that race." And she rested one hand
lightly upon my arm.

The motion, simple as it was, angered him.

"You ask why I sought quarrel," he said sternly. "'T was because I
suspected this uncouth hunter had wronged you. Now I understand 't was
of your own choice. I wish you joy, Mademoiselle, of your new
conquest."

I felt the girl's slight form straighten, and saw his bold eyes sink
beneath the flame of her look.

"Captain