ious to permit me to figure out
the future for myself. Little by little I faced it, and came to an
irrevocable decision. It was to be Toinette or nothing. While it
might be true that she was in no immediate danger, and possibly could
be safely ransomed if I once escaped to civilization, yet the risk of
such venture and delay was too great; nor would my love abide so vast a
sacrifice on her part. I thought to say this to her; but there was a
look of firm decision in her sweet face, as her dark eyes met mine,
that somehow held me silent. I felt that in her own heart she must
already know what action I would choose, and the final moment would
prove sufficient test for her evident determination. Reassured here,
my thoughts turned to De Croix; but that was useless. I could send no
message to him; he was no longer in especial peril, and perhaps would
not willingly desert his newly found wife even to escape the savages.
Nay,--it was to be Toinette and I, now and forever.

I do not clearly remember at this day what it was we spoke about in the
brief whispering that passed between us while we waited there. Neither
of us felt like voicing our real thoughts, and so we but dissembled,
making commonplaces fill the gaps between our silences. The night
found us undisturbed, and it shut down so darkly within the narrow
confines of the lodge that I lost all trace of her presence, but for an
occasional movement or the sound of her low voice. Without, the
rapidly increasing noise indicated a return of many savages to the
camp, until at last a fire was kindled in the open space, its red flame
sending some slight illumination where we were, but not enough to
reveal the interior of the lodge. An Indian brought the girl some
food, entering and leaving without uttering a sound; and we two ate
together, striving to speak lightly in order to make the coarse meal
more palatable.

Suddenly I became aware of a faint scratching upon the skin of the
lodge, at my back. At first I supposed it to be some wild animal, or
possibly a stray dog; but the regularity of it showed a purpose of some
kind. Could it be De Croix? Or was it the half-breed with some secret
message he dared not deliver openly? I lifted the lodge covering
slightly, and placed my lips to the aperture.

"Is some one there?" I whispered cautiously. "Who is it?"

"I am Sister Celeste," came the immediate low reply. "Are you the
white man I guided?"

"Ay," I answered,