Like a flash of flame the maid in her crimson skirt shot up the main
way of Fort de Seviere to where the factory lay asleep in the warm
spring sun.

On its log step, pipe in mouth, young Anders McElroy leaned against the
jamb and looked smilingly out upon his settlement. Peace lay softly
upon it, from the waters of the small stream to the east where nine
canoes lay bottom up upon the pebbly shore, to the great dark wall of
the forest shouldering near on three sides. To him ran little
Francette, light on her moccasined feet as the wind in the tender pine-
tops, her eloquent small hands outstretched and clutching at his sleeve
audaciously.

None other in all the post would have dared as much, for this smiling
young man with the blue eyes was the Law at Fort de Seviere, factor of
the Company and governor of the handful of humanity lost in the vast
region of the Assiniboine. But to Francette he was Power and Help, and
she thought of naught else, as it is not likely she would have done
even at another time.

"Oh, M'sieu!" she cried, gasping from her run, "come at once beyond the
great gate! Bois DesCaut,--Oh, brute of the world!--whips that great
grey husky leader of his team, because it did but snap at his heel
beneath an idle prod! Hasten, M'sieu! He drags it, glaring, along the
shore to where lie those clubs brought for the kettles!"

In the dark eyes upraised to him there swam a mist of tears and the
heart of the little maid tore at her breast in anguish.

The smile slipped swiftly from the factor's face, leaving it grave.