xplanation sufficient to show that you have
been labouring under a mistake.' (No doubt I was.) `If, on the other
hand, I am wrong in this conjecture, I trust that you will do me the
justice to point out the so-called deception, of which I am supposed
to be guilty, in order that I may clear myself from a false
imputation.'"

"Well, father, that clears up the matter sufficiently, doesn't it?" said
Kenneth.

"It does, unquestionably," replied McLeod, "especially when coupled with
the letter from Gambart, which has so strangely reached us at the same
time with that of Redding. Well well, after all, things looked bad to
me at first. I'm sorry, however, that I gave way to temper when we met,
for the explanation might have come at that time; but the hot-headed
young fellow gave way to temper too!"

McLeod said this in the tone of a man who, while admitting his fault,
looks about for palliating circumstances.

"However," he continued, rising and folding the letter, "I must write at
once to let him know that his explanation is satisfactory, and that--
that--"

"That you apologise for your haste," said Flora, with a laugh.

"Certainly not," replied McLeod stoutly. "I forgive _him_ for getting
angry with _me_, but I am not called on to ask forgiveness for being
indignant with a man whom I supposed I had good reason to believe was a
deceiver."

"It is not necessary to ask forgiveness when no offence was meant," said
Sharpeye, in good English, as he suddenly rose, and, advancing to the
elder McLeod, held out his hand.

McLeod gazed at the Indian for a moment in silent amazement.

"I fear," continued Sharpeye, with a smile, "that I have to ask your
forgiveness for having ventured really to practise deception on you."

He removed a dark wig as he spoke, and revealed to the astonished gaze
of the McLeods the light curly hair of Reginald Redding!

"Miraculous apparition!" exclaimed McLeod, grasping the proffered hand,
"can I venture to believe my eyes?"

He glanced, as if for sympathy, to the spot where Flora had been seated;
but Flora, for reasons best known to herself, had quietly retired to the
interior of the tarpaulin tent and was just then absorbed in her duties
as nurse to the invalid.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE LAST.

Several months after the events narrated in the last chapter a very
merry party was assembled in Mr William Gambart's drawing-room at
Partridge Bay.

The party was small, by reaso