gainst her own people, on
her own hearthstone."

I never saw a man so amazed; and to his rapid questionings I gave the
one reply, that Alixe was my wife. His lip trembled.

"Poor child! poor child!" he said; "they will put her in a nunnery. You
did wrong, monsieur."

"Chevalier," said I, "did you ever love a woman?"

He made a motion of the hand, as if I had touched upon a tender point,
and said, "So young, so young!"

"But you will stand by her," I urged, "by the memory of some good woman
you have known!"

He put out his hand again with a chafing sort of motion. "There, there,"
said he, "the poor child shall never want a friend. If I can help it,
she shall not be made a victim of the Church or of the State, nor yet of
family pride--good God, no!"

Presently we parted, and soon we lost our grateful foes in the distance.
All night we jogged along with easy sail, but just at dawn, in a sudden
opening of the land, we saw a sloop at anchor near a wooded point, her
pennant flying. We pushed along, unheeding its fiery signal to bring
to; and declining, she let fly a swivel loaded with grape, and again
another, riddling our sail; but we were travelling with wind and tide,
and we soon left the indignant patrol behind. Towards evening came a
freshening wind and a cobbling sea, and I thought it best to make for
shore. So, easing the sail, we brought our shallop before the wind. It
was very dark, and there was a heavy surf running; but we had to take
our fortune as it came, and we let drive for the unknown shore, for it
was all alike to us. Presently, as we ran close in, our boat came hard
upon a rock, which bulged her bows open. Taking what provisions we
could, we left our poor craft upon the rocks, and fought our way to
safety.

We had little joy that night in thinking of our shallop breaking on the
reefs, and we discussed the chances of crossing overland to Louisburg;
but we soon gave up that wild dream: this river was the only way. When
daylight came, we found our boat, though badly wrecked, still held
together. Now Clark rose to the great necessity, and said that he would
patch her up to carry us on, or never lift a hammer more. With labour
past reckoning we dragged her to shore, and got her on the stocks, and
then set about to find materials to mend her. Tools were all too few--a
hammer, a saw, and an adze were all we had. A piece of board or a nail
were treasures then, and when the timbers of the craft were covere