There were patrols of savages along the river bank at dusk, and it is doubtful if all have been withdrawn." I looked as she pointed, and easily distinguished the one glittering spark that pierced the darkness to the north and east.

I wondered at her earlier words; yet they might all be true enough, for I knew nothing of this Elsa Matherson.

Before I could question further, De Croix had interfered,--eager, no doubt, to be rid of me.
"Upon my soul!" he exclaimed recklessly, "if I could voyage here from Montreal to win but a smile, it should prove a small venture for our backwoods friend to cover yonder small distance.

_Sacre_! I would do the deed myself for one kiss from rosy lips." I have wondered since what there was about those words to anger me.

It must have been their boastful tone, the sarcasm that underlay the velvet utterance, which stung like salt in a fresh wound.