ame de Montlivet in the morning, as early as
possible. I shall let you know her decision at once, monsieur."

"Montlivet, she will need time to consider."

I shook my head. "She has thought the matter out. I think her answer
will be ready." And then we said good-night.

CHAPTER XXVIII

CHILDREN OF OPPORTUNITY

It was but little after dawn the next morning when I met Madame de
Montlivet in the waiting-room of the commandant.

It was a crisp, clear morning, blue of water and sky. I stood at the
window and looked at the water-way that led to the east, and waited for
my wife. I had several speeches prepared for her, but when she came I
said none of them. I took her hand and led her to the window.

"Look at the path of the sun, madame. It was just such a morning when
you came to me first."

Her hand lingered a moment in mine. "I came to the most gallant
gentleman that I have ever known."

With all the kindness of her words there was something in them that
spoke of parting. "Then will you stay with him?" I cried. "Mary, I
know no gallant gentleman. To me he seems much a fool and a dreamer.
But such as he is he is loyally yours. Will you stay with him? Or
will you start for Montreal this morning with your cousin?"

"This morning?"

"Yes, as soon as the canoes can be made ready. I did not know this
till after midnight. I wish I might have warned you."

"This is warning enough. I was sure that this was what you had to tell
me when you asked for me so early. There is but one thing for me to
do. I must go with my cousin."

I heard the words, but I felt incredulous, stupid. I was prepared to
meet this decision after argument, not to have it fall on me in this
leaden way. I dropped her hand and walked to and fro. It was useless
to ask if she had thought out her decision carefully. Her tone
disposed of that. I went back and stood before her.

"The question is yours to decide. Yet I should be a strange man if I
let you go without being sure I understood your motives. If you go
because you wish to be free from me,--that is all that need be said.
But if I have failed to woo you as a man should---- You sealed my
lips. Will you let me open them now?"

Perhaps my hand went out to her. At all events she drew away, and I
thought her look frightened, as if something urged her to me that she
must resist.

"No, no, you must not woo me, you must not. I beg you, monsieur."

I looked at her