entle heart that was
but too well disposed to receive his homage.

Her trust went with her love. Earth was never so green, nor air so
sweet, nor skies so bright and azure, as those of Caroline's wooing,
on the shores of the beautiful Bay of Minas. She loved this man with
a passion that filled with ecstasy her whole being. She trusted his
promises as she would have trusted God's. She loved him better than she
loved herself--better than she loved God, or God's law; and counted as
a gain every loss she suffered for his sake, and for the affection she
bore him.

After some months spent in her charming society, a change came over
Bigot. He received formidable missives from his great patroness at
Versailles, the Marquise de Pompadour, who had other matrimonial designs
for him. Bigot was too slavish a courtier to resent her interference,
nor was he honest enough to explain his position to his betrothed. He
deferred his marriage. The exigencies of the war called him away. He had
triumphed over a fond, confiding woman; but he had been trained among
the dissolute spirits of the Regency too thoroughly to feel more than
a passing regret for a woman whom, probably, he loved better than any
other of the victims of his licentious life.

When he finally left Acadia a conquered province in the hands of
the English, he also left behind him the one true, loving heart that
believed in his honor and still prayed for his happiness.

The days of Caroline's disillusion soon came; she could not conceal from
herself that she had been basely deceived and abandoned by the man she
loved so ardently. She learned that Bigot had been elevated to the high
office of Intendant of New France, but felt herself as utterly forgotten
by him as the rose that had bloomed and withered in her garden two
summers ago.

Her father had been summoned to France on the loss of the Colony; and
fearing to face him on his return, Caroline suddenly left her home
and sought refuge in the forest among her far-off kindred, the red
Abenaquais.

The Indians welcomed her with joy and unbounded respect, recognizing
her right to their devotion and obedience. They put upon her feet the
moccasins of their tribe, and sent her, with a trusty escort, through
the wilderness to Quebec, where she hoped to find the Intendant, not to
reproach him for his perfidy,--her gentle heart was too much subdued for
that,--but to claim his protection, and if refused, to die at his door.

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