apart of a solid landscape. The deep cleft mouth parted, lifting first
at the corners and showing teeth, then widening to the utterance of a
low howl.

Gaspard tumbled over the stool, and, seizing it by a leg, held it
between himself and Sainte-Hélène.

"What is the matter, Gaspard?" exclaimed the officer, clattering his
scabbard against the chair as he rose, his lace and plumes and ribbons
stirring anew. Many a woman in the province had not as fine and
sensitive a face as the one confronting the old habitant.

Gaspard stood back against the wall, holding the stool with its legs
bristling towards Sainte-Hélène. He shook from head to foot.

"Have I done anything to frighten you? What is the matter with me,
Gaspard, that people should treat me as they do? It is unbearable! I
take the hardest work, the most dangerous posts; and they are against
me--against me."

The soldier lifted his clenched fists, and turned his back on the old
man. The fire showed every curve of his magnificent stature. Wind,
diving into the chimney, strove against the sides for freedom, and
startled the silence with its hollow rumble.

"I forded the St. Charles when the tide was rising, to take you back
with me to the fort. I see you dread the New Englanders less than you
do me. She told her father she feared you were ill. But every one is
well," said Sainte-Hélène, lowering his arms and making for the door.
And it sounded like an accusation against the world.