gets the depths that underlie
the thin ice over which he skims, careless as a bird in the sunshine.

An hour more was struck by the loud clock of the Recollets. The drums
and bugles of the garrison sounded the signal for the closing of the
gates of the city and the setting of the watch for the night. Presently
the heavy tramp of the patrol was heard in the street. Sober bourgeois
walked briskly home, while belated soldiers ran hastily to get into
their quarters ere the drums ceased beating the tattoo.

The sharp gallop of a horse clattered on the stony pavement, and stopped
suddenly at the door. A light step and the clink of a scabbard rang
on the steps. A familiar rap followed. Angelique, with the infallible
intuition of a woman who recognizes the knock and footstep of her lover
from ten thousand others, sprang up and met Le Gardeur de Repentigny as
he entered the boudoir. She received him with warmth, even fondness, for
she was proud of Le Gardeur and loved him in her secret heart beyond all
the rest of her admirers.

"Welcome, Le Gardeur!" exclaimed she, giving both hands in his: "I knew
you would come; you are welcome as the returned prodigal!"

"Dear Angelique!" repeated he, after kissing her hands with fervor, "the
prodigal was sure to return, he could not live longer on the dry husks
of mere recollections."

"So he rose, and came to the house that is full and overflowing with
welcome for him! It is good of you to come, Le Gardeur! why have you
stayed so long away?" Angelique in the joy of his presence forgot for
the moment her meditated infidelity.

A swift stroke of her hand swept aside her flowing skirts to clear a
place for him upon the sofa, where he sat down beside her.

"This is kind of you, Angelique," said he, "I did not expect so much
condescension after my petulance at the Governor's ball; I was wicked
that night--forgive me."

"The fault was more mine, I doubt, Le Gardeur." Angelique recollected
how she had tormented him on that occasion by capricious slights, while
bounteous of her smiles to others. "I was angry with you because of your
too great devotion to Cecile Tourangeau."

This was not true, but Angelique had no scruple to lie to a lover. She
knew well that it was only from his vexation at her conduct that Le
Gardeur had pretended to renew some long intermitted coquetries with the
fair Cecile. "But why were you wicked at all that night?" inquired she,
with a look of sudden interest, as