e air and his soldierly tread, a stranger, with Jeanne Angelot
hanging on his arm in all the bloom and radiance of girlhood. Several
knew and bowed with deference.

M. Fleury came out of his warehouse.

"Mam'selle Jeanne, allow me to present my most hearty and sincere
congratulations. M. St. Armand insisted if the truth could be evolved it
would be found that you belonged to gentle people and were of good
birth. And we are all glad it is so. I had the honor of being presented
to your father this morning;" and he bowed with respect. "Mademoiselle,
I have news that will give thee greatest joy, unless thou hast forgotten
old friends in the delight of the new. The 'Adventure' is expected in
any time to-day, and M. St. Armand is a passenger. I beg your father to
come and dine with him this evening, and if thou wilt not mind old
graybeards, we shall be delighted with thy company. There will be my
daughter to keep thee in countenance."

"M. St. Armand!" Jeanne's face was in an exquisite glow and her voice
shook a little. Her father gave a surprised glance from one to the
other.

M. Fleury laughed softly and rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining
with satisfaction.

"Ah, Monsieur," he exclaimed, "thou wilt be surprised at the friends
Mam'selle Jeanne has in Old Detroit. I may look for thee at five this
evening?"

They both promised.

Then Jeanne began to tell her story eagerly. The day the flag was
raised, the after time when she had seen the brave General Wayne, the
interest that M. St. Armand had taken in having her educated, and how
she had struggled against her wild tendencies, her passionate love of
freedom and the woods, the birds, the denizens of the forests. They
turned in and out, the soldiers at the Citadel saluted, and here was
Pani on the doorstep.

"Oh, little one! It seemed as if thou wert gone forever!"

Jeanne hugged her foster mother in a transport of joy and affection.
What if Pani had not cared for her all these years? There were some
orphan children in the town bound out for servants. To be sure, there
had been M. Bellestre.

Pani did not receive the Sieur Angelot very graciously. Jeanne tried to
explain the wonderful things that had happened, but Pani's age and her
limited understanding made it a hard task. "Thy mother was dead long
ago," she kept saying. "And they will take thee away, little one--"

"Then they will take you, too, Pani; I shall never leave you. I love
you. For years ther