"Listen," said she, rapidly. "When I was quite a small girl Mr.
McTavish, of Rupert's House, gave me a little rifle. I have never used
it, because I do not care to shoot. That rifle has never been
counted, and my father has long since forgotten all about it. You must
take that, and escape to-night. I will let you have it on one
condition--that you give me your solemn promise never to venture into
this country again."

"Yes," he agreed, without enthusiasm nor surprise.

She smiled happily at his gloomy face and listless attitude.

"But I do not want to give up the little rifle entirely," she went on,
with dainty preciosity, watching him closely. "As I said, it was a
present, given to me when I was quite a small girl. You must return it
to me at Quebec, in August. Will you promise to do that?"

He wheeled on her swift as light, the eagerness flashing back into his
face.

"You are going to Quebec?" he cried.

"My father wishes me to. I have decided to do so. I shall start with
the Abítibi _brigade_ in July."

He leaped to his feet.

"I promise!" he exulted, "I promise! To-night, then! Bring the rifle
and the cartridges, and some matches, and a little salt. You must take
me across the river in a canoe, for I want them to guess at where I