child!" declared Father Gilbert. "Thou hast no human love
in thy breast. There must be days and weeks of penance and discipline
before thou art worthy even to touch this woman's hand. She is thy
mother. None other hath any right to thee. Thou must be trained in
obedience, in respect; thy pride and indifference must be cast out, evil
spirits that they be. She hath suffered for thy sake; she must have
amends when thou art in thy right mind. Thou wert given to the Church in
Holy Baptism, and now she will reclaim thee."

Jeanne turned like a stag at bay, proud, daring, defiant. It was some
evil plot. Could a true mother lend herself to such a cruel scheme? Why
was she not drawn to her, instead of experiencing this fear and
repulsion? Would they keep her here, shut her up in a dark room as they
had years ago, when she had kicked and screamed until Father Rameau had
let her out to liberty and the glorious sunlight? Could she not make one
wild dash now--

There was a shuffling of steps in the hall and a glitter of trappings.
The Commandant of the Fort stepped forward to the doorway and glanced
in. The priests questioned with their eyes, the nuns turned aside.

"We were told we should find Father Rameau here. There is some curious
business. Ah, here is the girl herself, Mademoiselle Jeanne Angelot.
There is a gentleman here desirous of meeting her, and has a strange
story for her ear. Can we have a private room--"

"Mademoiselle Jeanne Angelot is in the care of the Church and her
mother, who has come to claim her;" was the emphatic reply.

"Her mother!" The man beside the Commandant stepped forward. "Her mother
is dead," he said, gravely.

"The Sieur Gaston de la Touche Angelot, better known by repute as the
White Chief of the Island," announced the officer; and the guest bowed
to them all.

The woman fell on her knees and bowed her head to the floor. The man
glanced about the small concourse. He was tall, nearer forty than
thirty, of a fine presence, and, though bronzed by exposure, was
handsome, and not only that, but noble as to face; the kind of man to
compel admiration and respect, and with the air of authority that sways
in an unquestioning manner. His eyes rested on the girl. The same proud
bearing, though with virginal softness and pliability, the same large
steady eyes, both with the wondering look as they rushed to each other's
glance.

"If the tale I have heard, or rather have pieced out from vague bits and