adly, and that he had promised to take her on to Fort o'
God.

"It is up the Churchill?" he questioned.

"Yes," she whispered.

They heard voices now, and almost opposite them they saw shadowy
figures running out to the canoes upon the sand-bar.

"They will think that we are escaping toward Churchill," said Philip,
gloatingly. "It is the nearest refuge. See--"

One of the canoes was launched, and shot swiftly down the river. A
moment later the second followed. The dip of paddles died away, and
Philip laughed softly and joyously.

"They will hunt for us from now until morning between here and the Bay.
And then they will look for you again in Churchill."

Philip was conscious, almost without seeing, that Jeanne had bowed her
head in her arms and that she was giving way now to the terrific strain
which she had been under. Not until he heard a low sob, which she
strove hard to choke back in her throat, did he dare to lean over again
and touch her. Whatever was throbbing in his heart, he knew that he
must hide it now.

"You read the letter?" he asked, softly.

"Yes, M'sieur."

"Then you know--that you are safe with me!"

There was pride and strength, the ring of triumph in his voice. It was
the voice of a man thrilled by his own strength, by the warmth of a
great love, by the knowledge that he was the protector of a creature
dearer to him than all else on earth. The truth of it set Jeanne
quivering. She reached out until in the darkness her two hands found
one of Philip's, and for a moment she held his paddle motionless in
midair.

"Thank you, M'sieur," she whispered. "I trust you, as I would trust
Pierre."

All the words that women had ever spoken to him were as nothing to
those few that fell softly from Jeanne's lips; in the clinging pressure
of her fingers as she uttered them were the concentrated joys of all
that he had dreamed of in the touch of women. He knelt silent,
motionless, until her hands left his own.

"I am to take you to Fort o' God," he said, fighting to keep the
tremble of joy out of his voice. "And you--you must guide me."

"It is far up the Churchill," she replied, understanding the question
he intended. "It is two hundred miles from the Bay."

He put his strength into his paddle for ten minutes, and then ran the
canoe into shore fully half a mile above the sand-bar. He stepped out
into water up to his knees.

"We must risk a little time here to attend to your injured ankle," he
ex