d it necessary to forbid for the future any further
visit of this young man Scott to your house. Nay, more,
I shall not permit any communication between your family
and him; as I have good reason to believe that he is a
paid spy of Mr. Snow and the Government of Canada."

"Monsieur," quietly retorted Marie, with a curl of infinite
contempt upon her soft, red-ripe, moist lips, "You are
a coward, and a snake."

"Hush, Marie! Monsieur must not take heed of the ready
tongue of my daughter," the poor terrified and
over-credulous father put in with much trepidation.

"Mon pere need not apologize to Monsieur Riel for sa
fille," the girl said, giving her father a glance of mild
reproach. "I think that I am not unaware of the reason
why Monsieur Riel's patriotism and vigilance have taken
their present generous, honourable and manly form. And
as I have now to go out and attend to my work, I would
desire to say before leaving, that Monsieur has addressed
his last words to me. I do not wish to see him ever again
at our house. Should he insist on coming--and I know he
has high spirit and honourable feeling enough to even so
insist and force himself where he is not welcome--it
shall be to my greatest repugnance. I have been to you,
mon pere, a faithful and loving child. I do not think
that I have ever before this day made any important
request of you. But I make one now: it is that you request
this Monsieur Riel to never enter our doors again. Pray,
mon pere," she said going to him and looking into his
face with the intensest pleading in her great eyes, "do
not refuse me this request."

"Monsieur has heard my daughter's request? I cannot deny
it to her."

The only reply from M. Riel was a sneer that sounded like
an envenomed hiss.

"About the matter of visits, Monsieur, I shall consult
my own taste and convenience." Marie went out from the
house as regal in her bearing, and as beautiful as any
princess that has ever trod the court of Caliph. Riel
followed the retreating form of the lovely girl with eyes
that showed the rage and desire of a wild beast. When
she was out of sight he calmed himself, and assuming a
changed mood, turned to her father.

"Monsieur, there is no reason why you and I should quarrel;
is there?"

"No Monsieur; no reason."

"On the contrary, it would be well, if in these troublous
times, when duties so momentous await every loyal heart
in the colony, that we should be friends. Is this not so?"