Carbourd?"

"As you see, mademoiselle."

"You escaped safely then from the rifle-shot? Where is the soldier?"

"He fell into the river. He was drowned."

"You are telling me truth?"

"Yes, he stumbled in and sank--on my soul!"

"You did not try to save him?"

"He lied and got me six months in irons once; he called down on my back
one hundred and fifty lashes, a year ago; he had me kept on bread and
water, and degraded to the fourth class, where I could never hear
from my wife and children--never write to them. I lost one eye in the
quarries because he made me stand too near a lighted fuse--"

"Poor man, poor man!" she said. "You found the food I left here?"

"Yes, God bless you! And my wife and children will bless you too, if I
see France again."

"You know where the boat is?"

"I know, mademoiselle."

"When you reach Point Assumption you will find horses there to take you
across the Brocken Path. M. Laflamme knows. I hope that you will both
escape; that you will be happy in France with your wife and children."

"You will not come here again?"

"No. If M. Laflamme should not arrive, and you should go alone, leave
one pair of oars; then I shall know. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, mademoiselle. A thousand times I will pray for you. Ah, mon
Dieu! take care!--you are on the edge of the great tomb."

She stood perfectly still. At her feet was a dark excavation where was
the skeleton of Ovi the King. This was the hidden burial-place of the
modern Hiawatha of these savage islands, unknown even to the natives
themselves, and kept secret with a half-superstitious reverence by this
girl, who had discovered it a few months before.

"I had forgotten," she said. "Please take my hand and set me right at
the entrance."

"Your hand, mademoiselle? Mine is so--! It is not dark."

"I am blind now."

"Blind--blind! Oh, the pitiful thing! Since when, mademoiselle?"

"Since the soldier fired on you-the shock...."

The convict knelt at her feet. "Ah, mademoiselle, you are a good angel.
I shall die of grief. To think--for such as me!"

"You will live to love your wife and children. This is the will of God
with me. Am I in the path now? Ah, thank you."

"But, M. Laflamme--this will be a great sorrow to him."

Twice she seemed about to speak, but nothing came save good-bye. Then
she crept cautiously away among the bushes and along the narrow path,
the eyes of the convict following her. She had done a deed which,
she unde