forests? And where was Fort o' God? He had never heard of it
before, and as he thought of Jeanne's strange, rich dress, of the
heliotrope-scented handkerchief, of the old-fashioned rapier at
Pierre's side, and of the exquisite grace with which the girl had
left him he wondered if such a place as this Fort o' God must be
could exist in the heart of the desolate northland. Pierre had
said that they had come from Fort o' God. But were they a part of
it?

He fell asleep, the resolution formed in his mind to investigate
as soon as he found the opportunity. There would surely be those
at Churchill who would know these people; if not, they would know
of Fort o' God.

Philip found Gregson awake and dressed when he rolled out of his
bunk a few hours later. Gregson had breakfast ready.

"You're a good one to have company," growled the artist. "When you
go out mooning again please take me along, will you? Chuck your
head in that pail of water and let's eat. I'm starved."

Philip noticed that his companion had tacked the sketch against
one of the logs above the table.

"Pretty good for imagination, Greggy," he said, nodding. "Burke
will jump at that if you do it in colors."

"Burke won't get it," replied Gregson, soberly, seating himself at
the table. "It won't be for sale."