d come, he who out-lived the
other to see the rites of the Death Feast. He has joined her. I saw his
rites. So for this end, reaching far back, I did not return when you
came back to De Seviere, going on with that rabble who dared not harm me
who am to share the Sleep of Chiefs some day....

"So!

"Now for the rest. I know no more of Maren Le Moyne than that first
tragic sight of her, hauled into the light by the brute DesCaut. I only
know that she stood before those savages as fearless as a lioness and
threw again and again, her black head up and sane, her young body under
her own command in every taut cord and muscle, and that again and again
and yet again the flying hatchet landed in its own cleft,--a wonderful
performance!--putting off with coolness and skill the death they would
see her decide, choosing neither man of you."

"But," cried McElroy, "it was De Courtenay she came to see,--to
save,--to die with,--she loved him, man!"

"Aye,--maybe. But I know only that that young trapper, Marc Dupre, gave
his life as gallantly as might be to cover our retreat while we, the
Nor'wester and I, slipping among the sleepers, carried you to the river;
that they woke, those devils, before we had cleared the little gorge,
and that M'sieu de Courtenay, brave man and gay cavalier, gave your
knees to this woman who helped me get you to the canoe, himself taking
the only gun and meeting what fate was his in the narrow seam among the
rocks. She had with her men of Mr. Mowbray's brigade, that she had got
somewhere on Winnipeg, and we put you in their waiting canoe. She was
dragged in among the thwarts,--while I--slipped back among the shadows,
circled the camp, and was at my death-watch inside the big tepee when
peering eyes looked in. I saw no more of the dashing Nor'wester, save a
flash of long gold curls at a headman's belt. What fate was meted out to
him was swift and therefore merciful. Peace be to him!

"No more I know, my friend, save that, when I returned to De Seviere, I
found you ill with some fever of the brain."

"But, Ridgar, for love of Heaven, what of Maren?"

"She had brought you here, and Rette says the women hung off from her
and laughed in corners, whispering and talking, and that her face was
worn and greatly changed, as if with some deep sorrow."

McElroy turned his head upon the pillow and weak tears smarted under his
lids.

"Me! It was I she saved when it was I who slew her lover! God forgive
me, for