he evening glow, and again
the two exiles descended to their cabins with cheering words for each
other and heavy thoughts in their own hearts.

De Catinat's bunk was next to a port-hole, and it was his custom to keep
this open, as the caboose was close to him in which the cooking was done
for the crew, and the air was hot and heavy. That night he found it
impossible to sleep, and he lay tossing under his blanket, thinking over
every possible means by which they might be able to get away from this
cursed ship. But even if they got away, where could they go to then?
All Canada was sealed to them. The woods to the south were full of
ferocious Indians. The English settlements would, it was true, grant
them freedom to use their own religion, but what would his wife and he
do, without a friend, strangers among folk who spoke another tongue?
Had Amos Green remained true to them, then, indeed, all would have been
well. But he had deserted them. Of course there was no reason why he
should not. He was no blood relation of theirs. He had already
benefited them many times. His own people and the life that he loved
were waiting for him at home. Why should he linger here for the sake of
folk whom he had known but a few months? It was not to be expected, and
yet De Catinat could not realise it, could not understand it.

But what was that? Above the gentle lapping of the river he had
suddenly heard a sharp clear "Hist!" Perhaps it was some passing
boatman or Indian. Then it came again, that eager, urgent summons.
He sat up and stared about him. It certainly must have come from the
open port-hole. He looked out, but only to see the broad basin, with
the loom of the shipping, and the distant twinkle from the lights on
Point Levi. As his head dropped back upon the pillow something fell
upon his chest with a little tap, and rolling off, rattled along the
boards. He sprang up, caught a lantern from a hook, and flashed it upon
the floor. There was the missile which had struck him--a little golden
brooch. As he lifted it up and looked closer at it, a thrill passed
through him. It had been his own, and he had given it to Amos Green
upon the second day that he had met him, when they were starting
together for Versailles.

This was a signal then, and Amos Green had not deserted them after all.
He dressed himself, all in a tremble with excitement, and went upon
deck. It was pitch dark, and he could see no one, but the soun