CHAPTER XV.
AN ADVENTURE UNDERGROUND A heavily-built man in shirt-sleeves, with a strong, good-humored face, and a shock of gray hair, appeared beside the girl in the doorway.
"'T is not the same scamp that kissed you, Josette," he exclaimed, after examining me intently in the dim light, "but I doubt not he may prove of similar breed, and it behooves you to be careful where you stand." "Has De Croix been here ?" I questioned, scarcely deeming it possible he could have outstripped me in our race through the night.
"I know not the rascal's name," was the reply, in the man's deep voice, "but certain I am there was one here scarce ten minutes agone asking after this same Matherson girl.

Saint James! but she must have made some sweet acquaintances, judging from the looks of her callers! Josette has been rubbing the fellow's kiss off her lips ever since he caught her unawares." "He was a dandified young fellow ?" I urged, impatient to be off, yet eager to be sure.
The girl laughed lightly, her roguish eyes ablaze with merriment.
"He might be sometime, Monsieur," she cried, evidently glad to talk, "but to-night he reminded me of those scare-crows the farmers near Quebec keep in their fields; a little chap, with a bit of turned-up mustache, and a bright eye, but rags,--gracious, such rags as he wore!" 'T was De Croix, there could be no doubt of it,--De Croix, torn and dishevelled by his mad rush through the darkness, but with no shred of his reckless audacity gone.

There was naught left me now but to race back upon his trail, hopeful for some chance that might yet allow me to come in first on the return journey.

In my throat I swore one thing,--the graceless villain should never collect his reward at both ends of his journey.

He had already stolen the sweets from Josette's red lips, but he should never claim those of Mademoiselle.