his thick locks; she fondly brushed them aside from
his broad forehead, which she pressed down to her lips and kissed.

"Tell my aunt and Le Gardeur when we return home," continued she. "They
love you, and will be glad--nay, overjoyed, to know that I am to be
your--your--"

"My wife!---Amelie, thrice blessed words! Oh, say my wife!"

"Yes, your wife, Pierre! Your true and loving wife forever."

"Forever! Yes. Love like ours is imperishable as the essence of the soul
itself, and partakes of the immortality of God, being of him and from
him. The Lady de Tilly shall find me a worthy son, and Le Gardeur a true
and faithful brother."

"And you, Pierre! Oh, say it; that blessed word has not sounded yet in
my ear--what shall I call you?" And she looked in his eyes, drawing his
soul from its inmost depths by the magnetism of her look.

"Your husband,--your true and loving husband, as you are my wife,
Amelie."

"God be praised!" murmured she in his ear. "Yes, my HUSBAND! The blessed
Virgin has heard my prayers." And she pressed him in a fond embrace,
while tears of joy flowed from her eyes. "I am indeed happy!"

The words hardly left her lips when a sudden crash of thunder rolled
over their heads and went pealing down the lake and among the islands,
while a black cloud suddenly eclipsed the moon, shedding darkness over
the landscape, which had just begun to brighten in her silvery rays.

Amelie was startled, frightened, clinging hard to the breast of
Pierre, as her natural protector. She trembled and shook as the angry
reverberations rolled away in the distant forests. "Oh, Pierre!"
exclaimed she, "what is that? It is as if a dreadful voice came between
us, forbidding our union! But nothing shall ever do that now, shall it?
Oh, my love!"

"Nothing, Amelie. Be comforted," replied he. "It is but a thunder-storm
coming up. It will send Le Gardeur and all our gay companions quickly
back to us, and we shall return home an hour sooner, that is all. Heaven
cannot frown on our union, darling."

"I should love you all the same, Pierre," whispered she. Amelie was not
hard to persuade; she was neither weak nor superstitious beyond her age
and sex. But she had not much time to indulge in alarms.

In a few minutes the sound of voices was heard; the dip and splash of
hasty paddles followed, and the fleet of canoes came rushing into shore
like a flock of water-fowl seeking shelter in bay or inlet from a storm.

There was a hast