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ge its tack, as soon as it sensed the veer of the wind. "I am here," he said, "to present my compliments to you, along with those of a certain other man." "Whom do you mean?" Jean's voice was now a little tremulous, despite her discipline of it. "Captain McTavish." "Oh!" she said, and she was silent for a moment, collecting herself. "But why do you, of all people, come with this message?" she added. "No reason at all, except that I saved his life this morning, and thought you might want to learn the facts, and perhaps an inkling of his whereabouts." "Was that really your reason?" she asked, more kindly. "It was one of them," he answered, significantly. It was now Jean's turn to look at her companion with some interest. He spoke with a certain dignity and reserve that she had never noticed in him before. His eyes were firm and steady when they met hers; his bearing was courteous. With a sort of horrible pleasure, she recognized that this was Donald's half-brother, and looked for a family resemblance. She found a very strong one, in the eyes and general stature. Mercifully for her feelings, the shape of the head was hidden in the swathed _capote_ and fur cap. She wondered vaguely if he knew of the relationship. "Where is--Captain McTavish?" she asked, finally. "On his way to Sturgeon Lake." "Did he leave any message for me?" "A letter that I have in my pocket." "May I see it?" she asked eagerly, involuntarily stretching forth her hand. "How can I hand it to you, if I have to keep this distance?" Seguis asked, quizzically, and met her stare with humorous eyes. "I'll come and get it," she announced, "when you have it in your hand, ready for me to take." "You haven't thanked me yet for saving his life," the half-breed reminded her. "If it hadn't been for me, he would now be--" "Don't!" she cried sharply, going pale of a sudden. "Don't ever make any reference to that!" She paused, then added: "I can't thank you enough though, Seguis, for the fact that you saved his life. Why did you do it?" "I'll tell you later," was the non-committal reply. "In the meantime, here is your letter." He reached inside his shirt, and drew forth a dirty envelope, on which the girl's name was inscribed in pencil. He held it toward her without a word, and the girl clutched at it eagerly. "Just a moment," he said, withholding it. "You must read it here and now. I want to take it away with me. I must ask y
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