he helped her gallantly over the gunwale.
"Monsieur," he added, turning in his most irresistible manner to Monsieur
Gratiot, "if I have delayed the departure of your boat, I am exceedingly
sorry. But I appeal to you if I have not the best of excuses."

And he bowed to Suzanne, who stood beside him coyly, looking down. As
for 'Polyte and Gaspard, they were quite breathless between rage and
astonishment. But Colonel Chouteau began to laugh.

"Diable, Monsieur, you are right," he cried, "and rather than have missed
this entertainment I would pay Gratiot for his cargo."

"Au revoir, Mademoiselle," said Nick, "I will return when I am released
from bondage. When this terrible mentor relaxes vigilance, I will escape
and make my way back to you through the forests."

"Oh!" cried Mademoiselle to me, "you will let him come back, Monsieur."

"Assuredly, Mademoiselle," I said, "but I have known him longer than you,
and I tell you that in a month he will not wish to come back."

Hippolyte gave a grunt of approval to this plain speech. Suzanne
exclaimed, but before Nick could answer footsteps were heard in the path
and Lenoir himself, perspiring, panting, exhausted, appeared in the midst
of us.

"Suzanne!" he cried, "Suzanne!" And turning to Nick, he added quite
simply, "So, Monsieur, you did not run off with her, after all?"

"There was no place to run, Monsieur," answered Nick.

"Praise be to God for that!" said the miller, heartily, "there is some
advantage in living in the wilderness, when everything is said."

"I shall come back and try, Monsieur," said Nick.

The miller raised his hands.

"I assure you that he will not, Monsieur," I put in.

He thanked me profusely, and suddenly an idea seemed to strike him.

"There is the priest," he cried; "Monsieur le cure retires late. There
is the priest, Monsieur."

There was an awkward silence, broken at length by an exclamation from
Gaspard. Colonel Chouteau turned his back, and I saw his shoulders
heave. All eyes were on Nick, but the rascal did not seem at all
perturbed.

"Monsieur," he said, bowing, "marriage is a serious thing, and not to be
entered into lightly. I thank you from my heart, but I am bound now with
Mr. Ritchie on an errand of such importance that I must make a sacrifice
of my own interests and affairs to his."

"If Mr. Temple wishes--" I began, with malicious delight. But Nick took
me by the shoulder.

"My dear Davy," he said, giving me a vicious