again.

Castine saw the girl raise a pistol and fire at the beast. He was so
dumfounded that at first he did not move. Then he saw her raise another
pistol. The wounded bear lunged heavily on its chain--once--twice--in
a devilish rage, and as Christine prepared to fire, snapped the staple
loose and sprang forward.

At the same moment Castine threw himself in front of the girl, and
caught the onward rush. Calling the beast by its name, he grappled with
it. They were man and servant no longer, but two animals fighting for
their lives. Castine drew out his knife, as the bear, raised on its hind
legs, crushed him in its immense arms, and still calling, half crazily,
"Michael! Michael! down, Michael!" he plunged the knife twice in the
beast's side.

The bear's teeth fastened in his shoulder; the horrible pressure of
its arms was turning his face black; he felt death coming, when another
pistol shot rang out close to his own head, and his breath suddenly came
back. He staggered to the wall, and then came to the floor in a heap as
the bear lurched downwards and fell over on its side, dead.

Christine had come to kill the beast and, perhaps, the man. The man had
saved her life, and now she had saved his; and together they had killed
the bear which had maltreated Tom Ferrol.

Castine's eyes were fixed on the dead beast. Everything was gone from
him now--even the way to his meagre livelihood; and the cause of it
all, as he in his blind, unnatural way thought, was this girl before
him--this girl and her people. Her back was towards the door. Anger and
passion were both at work in him at once.

"Chris," he said, "Chris, let's call it even-eh? Let's make it up.
Chris, ma cherie, don't you remember when we used to meet, and was fond
of each other? Let's make it up and leave here--now--to-night-eh?

"I'm not so poor, after all. I'll be paid by Papineau, the leader of the
Rebellion--" He made a couple of unsteady steps towards her, for he
was weak yet. "What's the good--you're bound to come to me in the end!
You've got the same kind of feelings in you; you've--"

She had stood still at first, dazed by his words; but she grew angry
quickly, and was about to speak as she felt, when he went on:

"Stay here now with me. Don't go back. Don't you remember Shangois's
house? Don't you remember that night--that night when--ah! Chris, stay
here--"

Her face was flaming. "I'd rather stay in a room full of wild beasts
like that"--she p