n examined the girl's flushed face through kindly but
shrewd and experienced eyes. Then, with a caressing little murmur
of pity, she arose and seated herself on the arm of the red chair,
taking the girl's hand in hers.

"I believe you mean it," she said, "and I am going to tell you
myself. There is much sorrow in it for you; but if you go to your
father it will only make it worse. I am doing what I should not.
It is shameful that such things happen in this nineteenth century,
but happen they do. The long and short of it is that the Factors
of this Post tolerate no competition in the country, and when a man
enters it for the purpose of trading with the Indians, he is
stopped and sent out."

"There is nothing very bad about that." said Virginia, relieved.

"No, my dear, not in that. But they say his arms and supplies are
taken from him, and he is given a bare handful of provisions. He
has to make a quick journey, and to starve at that. Once when I
was visiting out at the front, not many years ago, I saw one of
those men--they called him Jo Bagneau--and his condition was
pitiable--pitiable!"

"But hardships can be endured. A man can escape."

"Yes," almost whispered Mrs. Cockburn, looking about her
apprehensively, "but the story goes that there are some cases--when
the man is an old offender, or especially determined, or so
prominent as to be able to interest the law--no one breathes of
these cases here--but--_he never gets out_!"

"What do you mean?" cried Virginia, harshly.

"One dares not mean such things; but they are so. The hardships of
the wilderness are many, the dangers terrible--what more natural
than that a man should die of them in the forest? It is no one's
fault."

"What do you mean?" repeated Virginia; "for God's sake speak
plainly!"

"I dare not speak plainer than I know; and no one ever really
_knows_ anything about it--excepting the Indian who fires the shot,
or who watches the man until he dies of starvation." whispered Mrs.
Cockburn.

"But--but!" cried the girl, grasping her companion's arm. "My
father! Does _he_ give such orders? _He_?"

"No orders are given. The thing is understood. Certain runners,
whose turn it is, shadow the Free Trader. Your father is not
responsible; no one is responsible. It is the policy."

"And this man----"

"It has gone about that he is to take _la Longue Traverse_. He
knows it himself."

"It is barbaric, horrible; it is murder."

"My