on the river in a canoe. He came silently, and
stood near me. The book was between us. I had it in the breast of my
coat, and he had it on his conscience.

"Bring out your horse and get me a fresh one," I said.

"Where shall I find one?"

"Pierre will give you one of ours," said Madame Ursule. "But you must
eat."

"I had my supper with the officers of the fort, madame. I would have
made a briefer stay if I had known what had happened on this side of the
river."

"I forgot to tell you, M's'r Williams, there is an abbe here from
Europe. He asked for you."

"I cannot see him to-night."

Skenedonk drew near me to speak, but I was impatient of any delay. We
went into the house, and Madame Ursule said she would bring a blanket
and some food to strap behind my saddle. The girls helped her. There was
a hush through the jolly house. The master bustled out of the family
room. I saw behind him, standing as he had stood at Mittau, a priest of
fine and sweet presence, waiting for Pierre Grignon to speak the words
of introduction.

"It is like seeing France again!" exclaimed the master of the house.
"Abbe Edgeworth, this is M's'r Williams."

"Monsieur," said the abbe to me with perfect courtesy, "believe me, I am
glad to see you."

"Monsieur," I answered, giving him as brief notice as he had given me in
Mittau, yet without rancor;--there was no room in me for that. "You have
unerringly found the best house in the Illinois Territory, and I leave
you to the enjoyment of it."

"You are leaving the house, monsieur?"

"I find I am obliged to make a short journey."

"I have made a long one, monsieur. It may be best to tell you that I
come charged with a message for you."

I thought of Madame d'Angouleme. The sister who had been mine for a few
minutes, and from whom this priest had cast me out, declaring that God
had smitten the pretender when my eclipse laid me at his
feet--remembered me in her second exile, perhaps believed in me still.
Women put wonderful restraints upon themselves.

Abbe Edgeworth and I looked steadily at each other.

"I hope Madame d'Angouleme is well?"

"She is well, and is still the comforter of his Majesty's misfortune."

"Monsieur the Abbe, a message would need to be very urgent to be
listened to to-night. I will give you audience in the morning, or when I
return."

We both bowed again. I took Pierre Grignon into the hall for counsel.

In the end he rode with me, for we concluded to send