you think came to the Chateau and recognized me, or rather I
recognized him? A stranger--and not such a stranger, either Amelie."

"Nay; go on, brother! Who could this mysterious stranger and no stranger
have been?"

"Pierre Philibert, Amelie! Pierre--our Pierre, you know! You recollect
him, sister!"

"Recollect Pierre Philibert? Why, how could I ever forget him while you
are living? since to him we are all indebted for your life, brother!"

"I know that; are you not glad, as I am, at his return?" asked Le
Gardeur, with a penetrating look.

She threw her arms round him involuntarily, for she was much agitated.
"Glad, brother? Yes, I am glad because you are glad."

"No more than that, Amelie? That is a small thing to be glad for."

"Oh, brother! I am glad for gladness's sake! We can never overpay the
debt of gratitude we owe Pierre Philibert."

"O my sweet sister," replied he, kissing her, "I knew my news would
please you. Come, we will go down and see him at once, for Pierre is in
the house."

"But, Le Gardeur!" She blushed and hesitated. "Pierre Philibert I
knew--I could speak to him; but I shall hardly dare recognize him in the
stately soldier of to-day. Voila la difference!" added she, repeating
the refrain of a song very popular both in New France and in Old at that
period.

Le Gardeur did not comprehend her hesitation and tone. Said he,--"Pierre
is wonderfully changed since he and I wore the green sash of the
seminary. He is taller than I, wiser and better,--he was always
that,--but in heart the same generous, noble Pierre Philibert he was
when a boy. Voila la ressemblance!" added he, pulling her hair archly as
he repeated the antistrophe of the same ditty.

Amelie gave her brother a fond look, but she did not reply, except by a
tight pressure of the hand. The voices of the Chevalier La Corne and
the Lady de Tilly and Colonel Philibert were again heard in animated
conversation. "Come, brother, we will go now," said she; and quick
in executing any resolution she had formed, she took the arm of
her brother, swept with him down the broad stair, and entered the
drawing-room.

Philibert rose to his feet in admiration of the vision of loveliness
that suddenly beamed upon his eyes. It was the incarnation of all the
shapes of grace and beauty that had passed through his fervid fancy
during so many years of absence from his native land. Something there
was of the features of the young girl who had ridden with