eyes were on the fire. The look upon her face was very gentle; something
new and beautiful had come to reign there.

A moment, and Malbrouck spoke: "You did what was youthful and curious,
but not wrong; and you shall not lose your hazard. I--"

"No, do not tell me," Gregory interrupted; "only let me be pardoned."

"As I said, lad, you shall not lose your hazard. I will tell you the
brief tale of two lives."

"But, I beg of you! For the instant I forgot. I have more to confess."
And Gregory told them in substance what Pretty Pierre had disclosed to
him in the Rocky Mountains.

When he had finished, Malbrouck said: "My tale then is briefer still: I
was a common soldier, English and humble by my mother, French and noble
through my father--noble, but poor. In Burmah, at an outbreak among the
natives, I rescued my colonel from immediate and horrible death, though
he died in my arms from the injuries he received. His daughter too, it
was my fortune, through God's Providence, to save from great danger. She
became my wife. You remember that song you sang the day we first met
you?

"It brought her father back to mind painfully. When we came to England
her people--her mother--would not receive me. For myself I did not care;
for my wife, that was another matter. She loved me and preferred to go
with me anywhere; to a new country, preferably. We came to Canada.

"We were forgotten in England. Time moves so fast, even if the records