Then I added, "What journey do you contemplate ?" He gazed at me, his face full of undisguised amazement.
"What journey?
Why, Mon Dieu! to the eastward, of course! Surely you have no wish to linger in this pleasant spot ?" "And is that the way of a French soldier ?" I asked, almost angrily.

"I thought you made the journey westward, Monsieur, for the sake of one you professed greatly to admire; and now you confess yourself willing to leave her here to the mercy of these red wolves.

Is this the way of it ?" I spoke the words coolly, and they cut him to the quick.

His face flushed and his eyes flashed with anger; yet I faced him quietly, though I doubt not I should have felt his hand upon me had we been better circumstanced for struggle.
"How know you she lives ?" he asked sullenly, eying the rifle I still held across my shoulder.
"I do not know, Monsieur, except that her body is not upon the field yonder; but I will know before I leave, or give my life in the search.
And if you really loved her as you professed to do, you would dream of nothing less." "Love her ?" he echoed, his gaze upon the sand, now partially obscured in the descending twilight.

"_Sacre_! I truly thought I did, for the girl certainly has beauty and wit, and wove a spell about me in Montreal.