ow stripped and dived. Of course it was dark
under water, as it always is dark under the muddy Red, and the Indian
could not feel a thing from which fringe could have ripped. Had my jerk
disturbed whatever it was and sent it rolling down to mid-current? I
asked Father Holland this when I came back.

"Tush, faint-heart," he muttered, drawing me aside. "'Tis only a trial
of your faith."

I said something about trials of faith which I shall not repeat here,
but which the majority of people, who are on the tenter-hooks of such
trials, have said for themselves.

"Faith! Pah!" exclaimed Louis, joining our whispered conference, while
Eric and Mr. Sutherland were hoisting a tent. "That shawl, it mean
nodings of things heavenly! It only mean rag stuck in the mud and reds
nearabouts here! I have told the Great Bear and his snarl Englishman the
Indians not come till morning. They get tent ready and watch! You follow
Louis, he lead you to camp. The priest--he good for say a little
prayer; the Indian for fight; Louis--for swear; Rufus--to snatch the
Englishwoman, he good at snatching the fair, ha-ha."

He darted to the shore, calling Little Fellow from the canoe and leaving
Father Holland and me to follow as best we could.

"We'll be back soon, Eric," I shouted. "We're going to get the lie of
the land. Keep watch here," and I broke into a run to keep up with the
French trapper and the Indian, who were leading into the woods away from
the river. I could hear Father Holland puffing behind like a wind-blown
racer. Abruptly the priest came to a stop.

"By all the saints," he ordered. "Go back to the tent!"

I turned. A white form emerged from the foliage and Frances was beside
me.

"May I not come?" she asked.

"No--dearest, there will be fighting."

"No--Lord--no," panted Father Holland coming up to us. "We're not
swapping one woman for another. What would Rufus do without ye?"

"You are going for Miriam?" she questioned, holding my hand. "God speed
you and bring you back safely!"

"Say rather--bring Miriam," and I unfastened the clinging hand almost
roughly.

"Come on, slugs, sloths, laggards," commanded Laplante impatiently, and
we dashed into the thick of the woods, leaving the white figure alone
against the shadowy thicket. She called out something, of which I heard
only two words, "Miriam" and "Rufus"; but I knew those names were
uttered in supplication and they filled my heart with daring hope.
Surely, we must su