"Thank you."

The Factor examined the young man's face with some deliberation.

"You love my daughter truly?" he asked, quietly.

"Yes," replied Ned Trent, also quietly.

"That is well, for she loves you. And," went on the old man, throwing
his massive head back proudly, "my people love well! I won her mother
in a day, and nothing could stay us. God be thanked, you are a man and
brave and clean. Enough of that! I place the _brigade_ under your
command! You must be responsible for it, for I am sending no other
white--the crew are Indians and _mètis_."

"All right," agreed Ned Trent, indifferently.

"My daughter you will take to Sacré Coeur at Quebec."

"Virginia!" cried the young man.

"I am sending her to Quebec. I had not intended doing so until July,
but the matters from Rupert's House make it imperative now."

"Virginia goes with me?"

"Yes."

"You consent? You--"