ong bow, had not an unfriendly aspect. He eyed the little
band silently as they passed by him in defile, then ran after them, and
inquired if the Pere Francois Xavier, of Mission St. Ignace, was not of
their number. He was informed that the reverend father had remained a
short distance behind to write in his journal, but that he would soon
overtake them; and he was warmly pressed to remain with them if he had
messages for the priest, and give them to him when he arrived; but the
Indian shook his head and passed on in the direction in which they told
him he would be likely to meet Father Xavier. The party halted and
waited hour after hour for the priest, but he did not come. Finally two
went back in search, and found him lying upon the sod with upturned
face--the place where he had written last in his journal marked by a few
drops of his heart's blood, and the long shaft of an arrow protruding
from his breast. They drew it out, but the arrow-head had been attached,
as is the custom in some Indian tribes, by means of a soft wax, which is
melted by the warmth of the body, and it remained in the heart. Father
Xavier had been dead some hours. They buried him where they found him,
and proceeded on their march. Tontz recovered on the way. They reached
Michillimackinack in safety, where they were joined two months later by
La Salle; and the world knows the result of his second expedition.

Little Marie learned by degrees to smile again, and in after years
married another arrow-head maker, as swarthy and as shaggy as the Black
Beaver. There is no moral to my story except that of poetic justice.
Pere Francois Xavier had sown a plentiful crop of stratagems, and he
learned in the lonely forest that "Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he
also reap."

Meanwhile to all but you, my readers, the Crevecoeur cameo remains as
great a mystery as ever.

LIZZIE W. CHAMPNEY.

MONSIEUR DELILLE.

NOTE-BOOK OF A SECRETARY OF LEGATION.

The newspapers of Berlin announced the arrival of a superior artist, the
celebrated M. Delille of the Theatre Francais de Paris, where he had
played first parts. Born and bred in the French metropolis, it was
believed he would not only open new sources of amusement to the public,
but add elegance to the French even of the highest regions. Everybody
was talking of him. His acquisition, rendered possible only by a
_differend_ with the Paris manager, was a triumph