uarters.

I was sitting there after supper, gloomily smoking my pipe, when I
received a visit from Griffith Hawke. The sight of his rugged, kindly
face gave me a keen twinge of conscience. He had been like a father to
me in the past, and I hated to think how nearly I had done him a foul
injury.

"All going well?" I asked.

"Within the fort, yes," he replied gravely, as he sat down. "Miss
Hatherton is quite recovered, and has an appetite. She seems to be a
brave and spirited girl."

"She is," I assented. "You knew they were sending her, I suppose?"

"Yes, Lord Selkirk forwarded me a little water color sketch of her
months ago. I am afraid there is a considerable disparity in our ages,
but that can be overcome. I shall make her a good husband, and a steady
one--eh, Denzil?"

With a forced smile, I pretended to appreciate the jest.

"How is Moralle?" I asked abruptly.

"He is a very sick man," said the factor; "but it is not a hopeless
case. With care, he may recover. But I came to have a serious talk with
you, my boy. First of all, tell me everything that happened from the
time you met Miss Hatherton in Quebec until I ran across you up the
river this morning. I have heard only fragments of the narrative."

I did as he requested, and he hung on my words with close attention and
with a deepening look of anxiety in his eyes. When I had finished, he
asked me numerous questions, and then pondered silently for a few
moments.

Finally he leaned forward and began to fill his pipe. By this time my
mind had strayed from the subject, and on a sudden impulse I plunged
into the thing that I was so anxious to have done and over with.

I grew confused from the start--a lie was so foreign to my nature--and I
fear I made rather a mess of it. What words I used I cannot recall, but
I incoherently told the factor that I wished to leave the fort at once
and go down country, pleading as an excuse that I was tired of the
lonely life of the wilderness and had taken a fancy to carve a future
for myself among the towns.

By the expression of his face I was certain that he suspected the truth,
and I could have bitten my tongue off with chagrin and shame. He looked
at me hard.

"You would leave the service of the company?" he asked. "And with your
fine chances!"

"I might be transferred--Fort Garry would suit me nicely," I blundered,
quite forgetting what I had said previously.

"This is not the time to make such a demand," Griff