ng anxiety about her brother made her most desirous to
bring the powerful influence of La Corne St. Luc to bear upon him.

Their kind old godfather was regarded with filial reverence by both.
Amelie's father, dying on the battle-field, had, with his latest breath,
commended the care of his children to the love and friendship of La
Corne St. Luc.

"Well, Amelie, blessed are they who do not promise and still perform.
I must try and meet my dear boy, so do not quite place me among the
impossibles. Good-by, my Lady. Good-by, Amelie." The old soldier gaily
kissed his hand and rode away.

Amelie was thoroughly surprised and agitated out of all composure by the
news of the return of Pierre Philibert. She turned aside from the
busy throng that surrounded her, leaving her aunt engaged in eager
conversation with the Bishop and Father de Berey. She sat down in a
quiet embrasure of the wall, and with one hand resting her drooping
cheek, a train of reminiscences flew across her mind like a flight of
pure doves suddenly startled out of a thicket.

She remembered vividly Pierre Philibert, the friend and fellow-student
of her brother: he spent so many of his holidays at the old Manor-House
of Tilly, when she, a still younger girl, shared their sports, wove
chaplets of flowers for them, or on her shaggy pony rode with them on
many a scamper through the wild woods of the Seigniory. Those summer and
winter vacations of the old Seminary of Quebec used to be looked forward
to by the young, lively girl as the brightest spots in the whole year,
and she grew hardly to distinguish the affection she bore her brother
from the regard in which she held Pierre Philibert.

A startling incident happened one day, that filled the inmates of the
Manor House with terror, followed by a great joy, and which raised
Pierre Philibert to the rank of an unparalleled hero in the imagination
of the young girl.

Her brother was gambolling carelessly in a canoe, while she and Pierre
sat on the bank watching him. The light craft suddenly upset. Le Gardeur
struggled for a few moments, and sank under the blue waves that look so
beautiful and are so cruel.

Amelie shrieked in the wildest terror and in helpless agony, while
Philibert rushed without hesitation into the water, swam out to the
spot, and dived with the agility of a beaver. He presently reappeared,
bearing the inanimate body of her brother to the shore. Help was
soon obtained, and, after long efforts