"That is all. Of course I never saw her afterwards."

"But you remembered her, and pitied her?"

"For a long time, Miss Ruth."

"I like you for that. But what has this to do with me? You said"--

"The story touched on you indirectly?"

"Yes."

"Well, so it does; I will tell you how. This poor girl was beautiful
enough in your own fashion to be your sister, and when I first saw you"-
-

"Monsieur," said the guide, respectfully lifting a forefinger to his hat
as he approached, "I think it looks like rain."

The man had spoken in English. Ruth went crimson to the temples, and
Lynde's face assumed a comical expression of dismay.

"Looks like rain," he repeated mechanically. "I thought you told me you
did not understand English."

"Monsieur is mistaken. It is Jean Macquart that does not spik English."

"Very well," said Lynde; "if it is going to rain we had better be
moving. It would not be pleasant to get blockaded up here by a storm--or
rather it would! Are the animals ready?"