all. You must take her to Sacre Coeur. And you
must be patient. Next year I shall resign, for I am getting old, and
then we shall see. That is all I can tell you now."

He arose abruptly.

"Come," said he, "they are waiting."

They threw wide the door and stepped out into the open. A breeze from
the north brought a draught of air like cold water in its refreshment.
The waters of the North sparkled and tossed in the silvery sun. Ned
Trent threw his arms wide in the physical delight of a new freedom.

But his companion was already descending the steps. He followed across
the square grass plot to the two bronze guns. A noise of peoples came
down the breeze. In a moment he saw them--the varied multitude of the
Post--gathered to speed the _brigade_ on its distant journey.

The little beach was crowded with the Company's people and with
Indians, talking eagerly, moving hither and yon in a shifting
kaleidoscope of brilliant color. Beyond the shore floated the long
canoe, with its curving ends and its emblazonment of the five-pointed
stars. Already its baggage was aboard, its crew in place, ten men in
whose caps slanted long, graceful feathers, which proved them boatmen
of a factor. The women sat amidships.

When Galen Albret reached the edge of the plateau he stopped, and laid
his hand on the young man's arm. As yet they were unperceived. Then a
single man caught sight of them. He spoke to another; the two
informed still others. In an instant the bright colors were dotted
with upturned faces.

"Listen," said Galen Albret, in his resonant chest-tones of authority.
"This is my son, and he must be obeyed. I give to him the command of
this _brigade_. See to it."

Without troubling himself further as to the crowd below, Galen Albret
turned to his companion.

"I will say good-by," said he, formally.

"Good-by," replied Ned Trent.

"All is at peace between us?"

The Free Trader looked long into the man's sad eyes. The hard, proud
spirit, bowed in knightly expiation of its one fault, for the first
time in a long life of command looked out in petition.

"All is at peace," repeated Ned Trent.

They clasped hands. And Virginia, perceiving them so, threw them a
wonderful smile.

_Chapter Nineteen_

Instantly the spell of inaction broke. The crowd recommenced its babel
of jests, advices, and farewells. Ned Trent swung down the bank to the
shore. The boatmen fixed the canoe on the very edge of floating free.
T