niff at my clothes, betraying every
sign of recognition.

This I knew to be the beast that I had taken to the home. How it had
managed to make its escape I could not imagine; but it had evidently
come northward with hardly a pause; and not only that, but had
accompanied us on our journey from St. Boniface at a distance, like the
half-wild creature that it was.

Two sleighs were standing before the huts. Leroux led me past them and
knocked at the door of the largest cabin.

"Pierre Caribou!" he shouted.

He was facing the door and did not see what I saw at the little window
on the other side. I saw the face of the old Indian, distorted with a
grimace of fury as he eyed Leroux.

Next moment he stood cringing before him, his features a mask. Looking
in, I saw a huge stove which nearly filled the interior, and seated
beside it the middle-aged squaw.

"This gentleman will sleep here to-night," said Leroux curtly. "In the
morning at sunrise harness a sleigh for him and M. Lacroix. Adieu, M.
Hewlett," he continued, turning to me. "And be sure your check will
never be presented."

There was something so sinister in his manner that again I felt that
thrill of fear which he seemed able to inspire in me.

He was less human than any man I had known. He impressed me always as
the incarnation of resolute evil. That was his strength--he was both
bad and resolute. If bad men were in general brave, evil would rule
the world as he ruled his. He swung upon his heel and left me.

I went in with Pierre Caribou, and the squaw glided out of the cabin.
There were two couches of the kind they used to call ottomans inside,
which had evidently once formed part of the _chateau_ furnishings for
their faded splendour accorded little with the decrepit interior of the
hut.

I looked at my watch. I had thought it must be midnight, and it was
only eight. Within three hours I had won Jacqueline and lost her
forever. With Leroux in my power, I had yielded and gone away.

And on the morrow I should arrive at Pere Antoine's hut just when he
expected me.

Surely the mockery of fate could go no further!

I sank down on one of the divans and buried my face in my hands, while
Pierre Caribou busied himself preparing food over the stove.

CHAPTER XVI

TEE OLD ANGEL

Presently the Indian touched me on the shoulder and I looked up. He
had a plateful of steaming stew in his hands, and set it down beside me.

"Eat!" he said