lmont smiled faintly as he heard this. He thought of Batoche's
visit.

"That will be just the thing," he murmured inwardly.

VI.

THE SAVING STROKE.

When Roderick took his departure, Pauline accompanied him to the outer
door, but she was not long away, being desirous to assist at the
interview between Cary and Batoche. The old man stood by the bedside of
his friend keenly observant of the symptoms which presented themselves
to his practised eye. He that had so often been exposed to the
severities of the Canadian winter and the hardships of the hunter's life
was well acquainted with a malady which had more than once threatened
his own days.

"Both his lungs are terribly attacked and he is very, very feeble," said
he to M. Belmont and Pauline, "but the clearness of his complexion shows
that his constitution is sound, and the repose of his limbs is proof
that he is endowed with remarkable strength. He was struck by a ball
under the right shoulder and the upper lobe of the lung was probably
grazed. He held up against the shock, thus wasting much of the vital
force which absolute repose from the beginning would have spared him. He
is a very sick man, but I believe with the doctor that he will pull
through. Indeed," added Batoche in that quaint oracular way which was no
longer new to those who heard him, "Cary Singleton cannot, must not die.
Not only is his own young life precious, but there are dear lives
depending upon his. What would Zulma Sarpy do without him, she that is
fretting at the very thought of his illness? And, Pauline, you, I am
sure, would not have him die?"

The answer was two large tears that quivered in the eyes of the poor
girl.

Presently, the head of the sick man turned slightly on its pillow, the
body contracted a little and Cary opened his eyes. There was no
bewilderment in the look. He awoke knowing where he was--not in a
strange place, but among those whom he loved and who lovingly cared for
him. Pauline was the first to approach him. She asked him a question,
and he answered in her own language, as naturally as if the French had
been his mother tongue. Batoche was delighted to observe this, regarding
it as a satisfactory normal symptom. Cary accepted a draught from the
hands of his beautiful nurse, then lay back on his pillow as if quite
refreshed. At that propitious moment, his eyes encountered those of
Batoche, who stood up a little towards the foot of the bed. A calm smile
play