wlings of
those who thirst for your blood. If you die by your own hands, they
will be robbed of their spectacle, and their chief will have lost his
bride. So you will be the victors in the end, and they the vanquished.
You have said rightly, White Lily. There lies the only path for you!"

"But how to take it?"

Onega glanced keenly at the two warriors who stood as sentinels at the
door of the hut. They had turned away, absorbed in the horrible
preparations which were going on. Then she rummaged deeply within the
folds of her loose gown and pulled out a small pistol with two brass
barrels and double triggers in the form of winged dragons. It was only
a toy to look at, all carved and scrolled and graven with the choicest
work of the Paris gunsmith. For its beauty the seigneur had bought it
at his last visit to Quebec, and yet it might be useful, too, and it was
loaded in both barrels.

"I meant to use it on myself," said she, as she slipped it into the hand
of De Catinat. "But now I am minded to show them that I can die as an
Onondaga should die, and that I am worthy to have the blood of their
chiefs in my veins. Take it, for I swear that I will not use it myself,
unless it be to fire both bullets into that Bastard's heart."

A flush of joy shot over De Catinat as his fingers closed round the
pistol. Here was indeed a key to unlock the gates of peace. Adele laid
her cheek against his shoulder and laughed with pleasure.

"You will forgive me, dear," he whispered.

"Forgive you! I bless you, and love you with my whole heart and soul.
Clasp me close, darling, and say one prayer before you do it."

They had sunk on their knees together when three warriors entered the
hut and said a few abrupt words to their country-woman. She rose with a
smile.

"They are waiting for me," said she. "You shall see, White Lily, and
you also, monsieur, how well I know what is due to my position.
Farewell, and remember Onega!"

She smiled again, and walked from the hut amidst the warriors with the
quick firm step of a queen who sweeps to a throne.

"Now, Amory!" whispered Adele, closing her eyes, and nestling still
closer to him.

He raised the pistol, and then, with a quick sudden intaking of the
breath, he dropped it, and knelt with glaring eyes looking up at a tree
which faced the open door of the hut.

It was a beech-tree, exceedingly old and gnarled, with its bark hanging
down in strips and its whole trunk spotte