eader of the small party.

"Wanamee," she said, in a low tone, "will you tell M. Ralph about
miladi?--I thought to do it, but I cannot. And I am so sorry she left no
message for him. He was always so good to her. And you can tell him I
held her a long while in my arms that night."

"You were an angel to her, _ma fille_. I used to wonder sometimes----"

"I suppose it was being ill so long, and trying so hard to get well,
that made her unreasonable. It is better to go out of life suddenly, do
you not think so?"

"I should like to know a little about the hereafter. You see our nation
believe we go at once to another land, and do not stay in that miserable
place they tell of. But many of the braves believe there are no women
in the happy hunting grounds. One is swung this way and that," and
Wanamee sighed.

Rose's mind was torn and distracted by her promise. Now and then an
awful shudder took her in a giant grasp, and she thought she would drop
down and ask them to leave her. Savignon would stay behind, if she
proposed that. What if he had not gone to the Hurons? Frightful stories
of torture she had heard rushed to her mind. Old Noko had witnessed
them. So had some of the men at the fort. Death itself was not so hard,
but to have burning sticks thrust into one's skin, to have fingers and
toes cut off, piecemeal--oh, she had saved him from that. Yes, she would
marry Savignon, and then throw herself into the river, after she had
kept her promise.

The weather was growing colder. They halted for the night, and made a
fire. They had shot nothing, but the supper was very light, indeed.

"Little Rose," said Destournier, "come over beside me, since I cannot
well come to you. I have hardly seen you, and have not asked what has
gone on at the fort. I feel as if I had been away half a lifetime. And
miladi----"

"Wanamee will tell you, I cannot." She drew away the hand he held, and
gently pushed the Indian woman forward, going out of the clear sound of
her voice. Oh, would it be a great sorrow to him?

Wanamee's recital of that last night set a halo about Rose in the man's
mind. He had known for years that he had not loved miladi as a man could
love, but he also questioned whether such a light, frivolous nature
could have appreciated the strong, earnest affection. Her great effort
to keep herself young had led to a meretricious childishness. She had a
vain, narrow soul, and this had dwarfed it still more. Many a night he
ha