Now I--I am simply Mademoiselle Antoinette,--at least, so most of those I care for call me; and from now on, the very good friend of Master John Wayland." I was deeply conscious that I blushed at her words and manner; but with it there arose an instant query in my mind: could this be the fair Toinette whom De Croix sought so ardently?
I greatly feared it; yet I resolved I would not mention his name to her.
"It has a decided French sound," I stammered.
She laughed at my tone, with a quick shrug of her shoulders.
"And pray, why not, Monsieur?
Have you such a prejudice against that great people that you need speak of them with so glum a voice?
Ah, but if I must, then I shall endeavor to teach you a higher regard for us." "That may not prove so hard a task," I hastened to assure her; "though I was surprised,--you speak English with so pure an accent that I had not dreamed you other than of my own race." "My father was of English blood," she answered more gravely; "but I fear you will find me quite of my mother's people, if ever we come to know each other well.

But hark! that was surely thunder! We have loitered too long; the storm is about to break." It was indeed upon us almost before she ceased speaking.

A sudden rush of wind sent my hat flying into the darkness, and whipped her long black hair loose from its restraining knot.

I had barely time to wrap my hunting-jacket closely around her shoulders, when the rain came dashing against our faces.
I drew her unresistingly around the edge of the nearest sand-pile; but this supplied poor protection against the storm, the wind lashing the fine grit into our faces, stinging us like bits of fire.

I tried to excavate some sort of cave that might afford us at least a partial shelter; but the sand slid down almost as rapidly as I could dig it out with my hands.
"Oh, let us press on!" she urged, laying her hand upon my arm, in entreaty.