that she had been crying. Even now there was a tremble of her lips
as she smiled her gratitude. He dropped his pan and stick, and
went to her. It seemed as if this last hour in the darkness of
camp had brought her nearer to him, and he gently took her hands
in his own and held them for a moment close to him. They were cold
and trembling, and one of them that had rested under her cheek was
damp with tears.

"You mustn't do this any more," he whispered.

"I'll try not to," she promised. "Please let me stand a little in
the warmth of the fire. I'm cold."

He led her close to the flaming birch logs and the heat soon
brought a warm flush into her cheeks. Then they went to where Jean
had spread out their supper on the ground. When she had seated
herself on the pile of blankets they had arranged for her,
Josephine looked across at Philip, squatted Indian-fashion
opposite her, and smiled apologetically.

"I'm afraid your opinion of me isn't getting better," she said.
"I'm not much of a--a--sport--to let you men get supper by
yourselves, am I? You see--I'm taking advantage of my birthday."

"Oui, ma belle princesse," laughed Jean softly, a tender look
coming into his thin, dark face. "And do you remember that other
birthday, years and years ago, when you took advantage of Jean
Croisset while he was sleeping? Non, you do not remember?"

"Yes, I remember."