e is here to find you. Have you
forgotten what I said to you yesterday morning? He will not rest till
he has found you. Ought we to save him anxiety? I can understand that
he has suffered."

But she shook her head, and her eyes as she looked up at me showed the
deep sadness that always seemed, while it lasted, to be too rooted ever
to be erased.

"You are an idealist, monsieur. You believe in man's constancy as I do
not. I cannot believe that I am the moving cause of Lord Starling's
journey. He would undoubtedly like to find me, for I am of his house
and of use to him, but he has other purposes. Of that I am sure."

I grew cruel because I was glad; there is nothing so ruthless as
happiness. "And you would thwart his purposes, madame?" I cried.

She looked at me coldly. "I will not be used as a tool against you,"
she said.

"And that is all?"

"It is enough. I have said this to you many times. Why do you make me
say it again? I have undertaken to do something, and I will carry it
through. I will not lend myself to any plot against your interests. I
will not. So long as we are together, I will play the game fair."

"And when we are no longer together?"

She pushed out her hands. "I do not know. I am glad that you asked me
that. Monsieur, if any chance should free us from each other, if we
should reach Montreal in safety, why, then, I do not know. I come of
an ambitious race. It may be that I shall use the information that I
have. I love my country as you do yours, and when a woman has had some
beliefs taken from her there is little remaining her but ambition. So
let me know as little as possible of your plans, for I may use my
knowledge. I give you warning, monsieur."

The happiness in me would not die, and so, perhaps, I smiled. She
looked at me keenly.

"You think that I am vaunting idly," she said. "Perhaps I am. I do
not know what I shall do. But, monsieur, for your own sake do not
underestimate my capacity for doing you harm. I mean that as a gauge."

She stood against the sunset, and her delicate height and proud head
showed like a statue's. I stooped and lifted an imaginary glove from
the sand.

"I take your gauge," I said. "But I find it a small and delicate
gauntlet for so warlike a purpose. May I wear it next my heart,
madame?"

She looked at me proudly. "I am serious," she said.

"And I take you seriously," I rejoined. I stepped to her and let my
hand touch h