sails with Captain
Duhamel on tonight's tide, which will carry me down the gulf also.

"You see, _monsieur_," he continued, "it is impossible to clear the ice
unless the tide bears us down; but once the Isle of Orleans is past we
shall be in more open water and independent of the current. Captain
Duhamel's boat is berthed at the same pier as mine upon the opposite
side, for they both belong to the Saint-Laurent Company, which leases
them in winter.

"We start together, then, but I shall expect to gain several hours
during the four days' journey, for I know the _Claire_ well, and she
cannot keep pace with my _Sainte-Vierge_. In fact it was only
yesterday that the government arranged for me to take over the
_Sainte-Vierge_ in place of the _Claire_, which I have commanded all
the winter, for it is essential that the mails reach St. Boniface and
the maritime villages as quickly as possible. So you must bring your
lady aboard the _Sainte-Vierge_ by nine to-night.

"I shall telegraph to my friend Danton at St. Boniface to have a sleigh
and dogs at your disposal when you arrive, and a tent, food, and
sleeping bags," continued Captain Dubois, "for it must be a hundred and
fifty miles from St. Boniface to the Chateau Duchaine. It is not a
journey that a woman should take in winter," he added with a
sympathetic glance at me, "but doubtless your lady knows the way and
the journey well."

The question seemed extraordinarily sagacious; it threw me into
confusion.

"You see, M. Danton carried the mails by dog-sleigh before the
steamship winter mail service was inaugurated," he went on, "and now he
will be glad of an opportunity to rent his animals. So I shall wire
him tonight to hold them for you alone, and shall describe you to him.
And thus we will check M. Leroux's designs, which have doubtless
included this point. And so, with half a day's start, you will have
nothing to fear from him--only remember that he has no scruples.
Still, I do not think he will catch you and Mlle. Jacqueline before you
reach Chateau Duchaine," he ended, chuckling at his sagacity.

"Ah, well, _monsieur_, who else could your lady be?" he asked, smiling
at my surprise. "I knew well that some day she must leave those wilds.
Besides, did I not convey her here from St. Boniface on my return, less
than a week ago, when she pleaded for secrecy? I suspected something
agitated her then. So it was to find a husband that she departed thus?
When she