tracted little
attention. Looking back, I saw that Mr. Mackenzie was on his feet, the
center of a small crowd who were bent on preventing him from following
us.

It was not long before we were off the quay, and in the shelter of the
quiet streets of the town. By a few words Miss Hatherton gave me to
understand that she was aware of the arrangements made for her, and that
the trunk was to be sent to the Silver Lily. Then she looked into my
face with a sad and grateful smile that set my heart to fluttering.

"I am glad to have found such a friend and protector," she said. "You
have done me a great service, and one that I will not forget, Mr.
Carew--I think that is your name. But I fear you have not seen the last
of Mr. Mackenzie."

"He will be wise to let the affair drop," I replied. "I count it an
honor and a pleasure, Miss Hatherton, that I had the opportunity of
helping you. If the man seeks satisfaction, he shall have it."

She glanced at me with some surprise, and with a tinge of amusement, I
fancied.

"Are you a Canadian?" she asked.

"A native-born child of My Lady of the Snows," said I.

"And you have never been in England?"

"No nearer than Quebec," I answered.

"I should not have believed it," she replied. Then, after a pause: "I
met Cuthbert Mackenzie on board the Good Hope. He sailed with me from
London, and from the first I disliked him. He constantly forced his
attentions upon me, though he saw that they were hateful to me; and when
I refused to have anything to do with him, he even went so far as to
threaten. I hope I have seen the last of him."

"He shall not annoy you again," said I.

She was silent for a moment.

"Shall we find Captain Rudstone at the hotel?" she asked.

"I believe so," I answered, hiding my annoyance at the question. "He
made an abrupt departure, Miss Hatherton."

"Perhaps he had good reasons," she replied; and with that the matter
dropped.

The rest of the distance was all too short for me. It was a novel thing
that I, who had scarce spoken ten words to a woman before in my life,
should be playing the gallant to as pretty a girl as could be found in
Quebec. But she had put me quite at my ease, and mightily proud I felt
when I gave her into the care of Madame Ragoul, though the thought that
she was the promised bride of old Griffith Hawke seemed to bring a lump
to my throat. I bade her good-by for the present in the upper hall of
the house, and going downstairs, I sa