Mr. Burley has honored me in part with his confidence--"

"There was no mystery," I broke in sharply. I was angry with Griffith
Hawke, though I knew that he meant well. "My father's name was Carew," I
went on, "and he had a right to it. Why he left England I cannot say,
but his home was in Yorkshire and his parents were dead when he came to
the Canadas."

"Then I am mistaken," said Griffith Hawke.

"There are Carews in Yorkshire," added the law clerk. "It is doubtless
the same family. Did your father leave no papers?"

"None," I replied.

"He used to wear a small gold locket about his neck," declared the
factor. "Surely you have seen it, Denzil?"

"I remember it," I said curtly; "but I do not know what was in it, or
what became of it. It was missing when my father's body was found in the
woods."

"That is unfortunate," said Christopher Burley in a tone that showed a
lack of further interest in the matter.

"Very!" assented Captain Rudstone, who was watching me curiously.

I made no reply. I had just recollected that I had in my pocket a seal
ring--a trifle too large to wear--which had been my father's. I fumbled
for it, hoping to put an end to a controversy that was distasteful to
me. But before I could find and produce it there were hurried steps
outside the house and the door was thrown open with a crash.

CHAPTER XXI

THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

We all turned round and then with one accord sprang to our feet The
horror of what we saw held us spellbound and speechless. We did not feel
the icy air, the swirl of fine snowflakes that came driving into the
room, for in the doorway stood Baptiste, his honest face almost
unrecognizable with hot passion, and in each hand he thrust out a
ghastly, gory, red-dripping thing of hair and flesh. They were human
scalps, and we knew at once from whose heads they had been torn.

"_Nom de Dieu!_" cried the priest. "The poor wretches!"

"Yes, Valle and Maignon!" Baptiste said thickly, grinding his teeth.
"They did not get far, sir, Heaven rest their souls! But a moment ago
the red devils flung these bloody trophies over the stockade--none can
tell how they crept so near! It is a warning, messieurs, that we are all
to be served the same way."

"My poor voyageurs!" groaned Christopher Burley. "That they should come
to such an end! Oh, this barbarous country!"

He suddenly turned sick and faint, and dropping int