bowl, a pair of red ribbons flaunted, a
pair of eyes sent a swift challenge, Zeron and his assistants struck
up again, and there in a corner was Nick Temple, with characteristic
effrontery attempting a pas de deux with Suzanne. Though Nick was
ignorant, he was not ungraceful, and the village laughed and admired.
And when Zeron drifted back into a valse he seized Suzanne's plump
figure in his arms and bore her, unresisting, like a prize among
the dancers, avoiding alike the fat and unwieldy, the clumsy and the
spiteful. For a while the tune held its mad pace, and ended with a
shriek and a snap on a high note, for Zeron had broken a string. Amid a
burst of laughter from the far end of the room I saw Nick stop before an
open window in which a prying Indian was framed, swing Suzanne at arm's
length, and bow abruptly at the brave with a grunt that startled him
into life.

"Va-t'en, mechant!" shrieked Suzanne, excitedly.

Poor Gaspard! Poor Hippolyte! They would gain Suzanne for a dance only
to have her snatched away at the next by the slim and reckless young
gentleman in the gray court clothes. Little Nick cared that the affair
soon became the amusement of the company. From time to time, as he
glided past with Suzanne on his shoulder, he nodded gayly to Colonel
Chouteau or made a long face at me, and to save our souls we could not
help laughing.

"The girl has met her match, for she has played shuttle-cock with all
the hearts in the village," said Monsieur Chouteau. "But perhaps it is
just as well that Mr. Temple is leaving to-night. I have signed a bond,
Mr. Ritchie, by which you can obtain money at New Orleans. And do
not forget to present our letter to Monsieur de Saint Gre. He has a
daughter, by the way, who will be more of a match for your friend's
fascinations than Suzanne."

The evening faded into twilight, with no signs of weariness from the
dancers. And presently there stood beside us Jean Baptiste Lenoir, the
Colonel's miller.

"B'soir, Monsieur le Colonel," he said, touching his skull-cap, "the
water is very low. You fren'," he added, turning to me, "he stay long
time in St. Louis?"

"He is going away to-night,--in an hour or so," I answered, with
thanksgiving in my heart.

"I am sorry," said Monsieur Lenoir, politely, but his looks belied his
words. "He is ver' fond Suzanne. Peut etre he marry her, but I think
not. I come away from France to escape the fine gentlemen; long time ago
they want to run off