d landscape. The deep cleft mouth parted, lifting first
at the corners and showing teeth, then widening to the utterance of a
low howl.

Gaspard tumbled over the stool, and, seizing it by a leg, held it
between himself and Sainte-Helene.

"What is the matter, Gaspard?" exclaimed the officer, clattering his
scabbard against the chair as he rose, his lace and plumes and ribbons
stirring anew. Many a woman in the province had not as fine and
sensitive a face as the one confronting the old habitant.

Gaspard stood back against the wall, holding the stool with its legs
bristling towards Sainte-Helene. He shook from head to foot.

"Have I done anything to frighten you? What is the matter with me,
Gaspard, that people should treat me as they do? It is unbearable! I
take the hardest work, the most dangerous posts; and they are against
me--against me."

The soldier lifted his clenched fists, and turned his back on the old
man. The fire showed every curve of his magnificent stature. Wind,
diving into the chimney, strove against the sides for freedom, and
startled the silence with its hollow rumble.

"I forded the St. Charles when the tide was rising, to take you back
with me to the fort. I see you dread the New Englanders less than you
do me. She told her father she feared you were ill. But every one is
well," said Sainte-Helene, lowering his arms and making for the door.
And it sounded like an accusation against the world.

He was scarcely outside in the wind, though still holding the door,
when Gaspard was ready to put up the bar.

"Good-night, old man."

"Good-night, monsieur, good-night, good-night!" called Gaspard, with
quavering dispatch. He pushed the door, but Sainte-Helene looked
around its edge. Again the officer's face had changed, pinched by the
wind, and his eyes were full of mocking laughter.

"I will say this for a loup-garou, Father Gaspard: a loup-garou may
have a harder time in this world than the other beasts, but he is no
coward; he can make a good death."

Ashes spun out over the floor, and smoke rolled up around the joists,
as Sainte-Helene shut himself into the darkness. Not satisfied with
barring the door, the old habitant pushed his chest against it. To
this he added the chair and stool, and barricaded it further with his
night's supply of firewood.

"Would I go over the ford of the St. Charles with him?" Gaspard
hoarsely whispered as he crossed himself. "If the New England men were
burnin