g to return and
recover it when the French should have departed.

After much discussion concerning it, De Gourges consented to accept of
it an amount sufficient to recompense him for the sum expended in
fitting out his expedition. It was, however, decreed by him and those
with him that the balance belonged to Rene de Veaux, and to none other.

Thus the lad, who had never in all his adventurous career dreamed of
acquiring worldly riches, neared his native land possessed of wealth so
great that it might be envied of princes.

The homeward voyage was quick and prosperous, and unmarked by incident
save their pursuit by a great Spanish fleet which they encountered in
the Bay of Biscay. This danger was escaped by their superior speed and
seamanship, and at length Rene de Veaux saw the spires and roofs of
that same seaport from which he had sailed for the New World, in
company with his Uncle Laudonniere, nearly four years before.

Tidings of their return, and some rumors of the brave doings of De
Gourges and those who sailed with him, had preceded them. So, as the
three ships sailed into the harbor with banners flying, sails
glistening like white clouds in the bright sunlight, and strains of
martial music issuing from them, the bells of the little town rang a
merry peal of welcome, and the quay was thronged with people in holiday
attire, eager to learn of their voyage to the New World.

A triumphal procession and fetes of various kinds had been arranged to
give honor to the victors; but Rene de Veaux was too anxious to reach
his uncle and be the first to take to him the tidings of his own safe
return, to care for these things. So he eluded those who would have
made a hero of him, and, travelling by post, made all speed towards
Paris.

In the same little unpretentious dwelling in which he had first greeted
his nephew years before, the old soldier, Rene de Laudonniere, sat one
chill autumn evening, musing beside a small fire. His surroundings
were poor, and his fine face was haggard and careworn. As he sat, in
his loneliness, his thoughts were in the New World, and with the brave
lad whom he had lost there.

His musings were interrupted by the entrance of an old servant, who was
none other than that Francois who served the family of De Veaux for so
many years, and who had now joined his poor fortunes with those of the
old chevalier. As he quietly opened the door, he announced:

"There is one without who would hav