that her own name had been mentioned, her mother stopped her.

"Was the woman a stranger? Have you ever seen her?"

"She was a stranger to Margery certainly. I think I saw her to-day."

"Where? Tell me all you know of her."

Lucia described the squaw's appearance at the farm.

"It must be Mary," Mrs. Costello said half to herself. "What shall I do?
How escape?"

She rose from the sofa and walked with hurried steps up and down the
room. Lucia watched her in miserable perplexity till she suddenly
stopped.

"Is that all?" she asked. "Did she go away?"

Lucia finished her account, and when she had done so, Mrs. Costello came
back to the sofa and sat down. She put her arm round her daughter, and
drawing her close to her, she said, "You are a good child, Lucia, for
you ask no questions, though you may well think your mother ought to
trust you. Be patient only a little longer, till I have thought all
over. Perhaps we shall be obliged to go away. I cannot tell."

"Away from Cacouna, mamma?"

"Away from Cacouna and from Canada. Away from all you love--can you bear
it?"

"Yes--with you;" but the first pang of parting came with those words.

CHAPTER VI.

"Away from all you love!" The words haunted Lucia after she lay down in
her little white bed that night. There, in the midst of every object
familiar to her through all her life, surrounded by the perfect
atmosphere of home, she repeated, with wondering trouble, the threat
that had come to her. When at last she slept, these words, and the pale
face of her mother bending over her as she closed her eyes, mixed
themselves with her dreams. At last, she fancied that a violent storm
had come on in the very noon of a brilliant summer day. She herself, her
mother, Percy and Maurice seemed to be standing on the river bank
watching how the sky darkened, and the water rose in great waves at
their feet. Suddenly a canoe appeared, and in it a hideous old squaw,
who approached the shore, and stretching out a long bony hand drew her
away from her mother's side, and in spite of her terror made her step
into the frail boat, which instantly flew down the stream into the
darkest and wildest of the storm. She stretched out her arms for
help--Percy stood still upon the bank, as if anxious but unable to give
it--Maurice waved his hand to her, and turned away. She seemed to know
that he was deserting her for ever, and in an agony of fear and sorrow
she gathered all her strength