gathering men and arms, drilling, exploiting
military designs in one country, to proceed against another. England is
at peace with France!"

"An international matter, this?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yes. The Government at Quebec is English; we are French and he is
French; and, I repeat, this thing is serious."

She smiled. "I am an American. I have no responsibility."

"They might arrest you for aiding and abetting if--"

"If what, dear and cheerful friend?"

"If I did not make it right for you." He smiled, approving his own
kindness.

She touched his arm, and said with ironical sweetness: "How you relieve
my mind!" Then with delicate insinuation: "I have a lot of old muskets
here, at least two hundred pounds of powder, and plenty of provisions,
and I will send them to--Valmond Napoleon."

He instantly became grave. "I warn you--"

She interrupted him. "Nonsense! You warn me!" She laughed mockingly. "I
warn you, dear Seigneur, that you will be more sorry than satisfied, if
you meddle in this matter."

"You are going to send those things to him?" he asked anxiously.

"Certainly--and food every day." And she kept her word.

De la Riviere, as he went down the hill, thought with irritation of how
ill things were going with him and Madame Chalice--so different from two
years ago, when their friendship had first begun. He had remembered her
with a singular persistency; he had looked forward to her coming back;
and when she came, his heart had fluttered like a schoolboy's. But
things had changed. Clearly she was interested in this impostor. Was it
the man himself or the adventure? He did not know. But the adventure was
the man--and who could tell? Once he thought he had detected some warmth
for himself in her eye, in the clasp of her hand; there was nothing of
that sort now. A black, ungentlemanly spirit seized him.

It possessed him most strongly at the moment he was passing the home of
Elise Malboir. The girl was standing by the gate, looking down towards
the village. Her brow was a little heavy, so that it gave her eyes at
all times a deep look, but now De la Riviere saw that they were brooding
as well. There was sadness in the poise of the head. He did not take off
his hat to her.

"'Oh, grand to the war he goes,
O gai, rive le roi!'"

he said teasingly. He thought she might have a lover among the recruits
at Dalgrothe Mountain.

She turned to him, startled, for she thought he m