ay I ask if you are Elsa Matherson?"

For a moment she looked out at me, as if I might be an escaped lunatic.
Then she turned her face over her shoulder toward those within.

"Mr. Kinzie," said she, "here 's another man looking for Elsa
Matherson."

CHAPTER XV

AN ADVENTURE UNDERGROUND

A heavily-built man in shirt-sleeves, with a strong, good-humored face,
and a shock of gray hair, appeared beside the girl in the doorway.

"'T is not the same scamp that kissed you, Josette," he exclaimed,
after examining me intently in the dim light, "but I doubt not he may
prove of similar breed, and it behooves you to be careful where you
stand."

"Has De Croix been here?" I questioned, scarcely deeming it possible he
could have outstripped me in our race through the night.

"I know not the rascal's name," was the reply, in the man's deep voice,
"but certain I am there was one here scarce ten minutes agone asking
after this same Matherson girl. Saint James! but she must have made
some sweet acquaintances, judging from the looks of her callers!
Josette has been rubbing the fellow's kiss off her lips ever since he
caught her unawares."

"He was a dandified young fellow?" I urged, impatient to be off, yet
eager to be sure.

The girl laughed lightly, her roguish eyes ablaze with merriment.

"He might be sometime, Monsieur," she cried, evidently glad to talk,
"but to-night he reminded me of those scare-crows the farmers near
Quebec keep in their fields; a little chap, with a bit of turned-up
mustache, and a bright eye, but rags,--gracious, such rags as he wore!"

'T was De Croix, there could be no doubt of it,--De Croix, torn and
dishevelled by his mad rush through the darkness, but with no shred of
his reckless audacity gone. There was naught left me now but to race
back upon his trail, hopeful for some chance that might yet allow me to
come in first on the return journey. In my throat I swore one
thing,--the graceless villain should never collect his reward at both
ends of his journey. He had already stolen the sweets from Josette's
red lips, but he should never claim those of Mademoiselle. I lingered
for but a single question more.

"But this Elsa Matherson,--she is not here, then?"

"No," returned Mr. Kinzie, somewhat gruffly, "and has not been since
the closing of the gates of the Fort. I think you are a parcel of mad
fools, to be chasing around on such an errand; yet humanity leads me to
bid you come in