wo of them lifted the young man aboard to a place on the furs by
Virginia Albret's side. At once the crowd pressed forward, filling up
the empty spaces.

Now Achille Picard bent his shoulders to lift into free water the stem
of the canoe from its touch on the bank. It floated, caught gently by
the back wash of the stronger off-shore current.

"Good-by, dear," called Mrs. Cockburn. "Remember us!"

She pressed the Doctor's arm closer to her side. The Doctor waved his
hand, not trusting his masculine self-control to speak. McDonald, too,
stood glum and dour, clasping his wrist behind his back. Richardson
was openly affected. For in Virginia's person they saw sailing away
from their bleak Northern lives the figure of youth, and they knew
that henceforth life must be even drearier.

"Som' tam' yo' com' back sing heem de res' of dat song!" shouted Louis
Placide to his late captive. "I lak' hear heem!"

But Galen Albret said nothing, made no sign. Silently and steadily,
run up by some invisible hand, the blood-red banner of the Company
fluttered to the mast-head. Before it, alone, bulked huge against the
sky, dominating the people in the symbolism of his position there as
he did in the realities of every-day life, the Factor stood, his hands
behind his back. Virginia rose to her feet and stretched her arms out
to the solitary figure.

"Good-by! good-by!" she cried.

A renewed tempest of cheers and shouts of adieu broke from those
ashore. The paddles dipped once, twice, thrice, and paused. With one
accord those on shore and those in the canoe raised their caps and
said, "Que Dieu vous benisse." A moment's silence followed, during
which the current of the mighty river bore the light craft a few yards
down stream. Then from the ten _voyageurs_ arose a great shout.

"Abitibi! Abitibi!"

Their paddles struck in unison. The water swirled in white, circular
eddies. Instantly the canoe caught its momentum and began to slip
along against the sluggish current. Achille Picard raised a high tenor
voice, fixing the air,

"_En roulant ma boule roulante,
En roulant ma boule_."

And the _voyageurs_ swung into the quaint ballad of the fairy ducks
and the naughty prince with his magic gun.

_"Derrier' chez-nous y-a-t-un 'etang,
En roulant ma boule."_

The girl sank back, dabbing uncertainly at her eyes. "I shall never
see them again," she explained, wistfully.

The canoe had now caught its speed. Conjuror's Ho