“We who were so sadly bereft resolved to join forces,” explained Marchand. “Gaspard Denys ought not lose everything by his generosity. So I have watched the trade and tried to fill his place as best I could, and Mère Lunde has kept the house, both praying and hoping. Several prisoners have escaped or been left by the Indians, who really did not want them and were afraid to practise the cruelties of other days lest a severe punishment might overtake them.” Renée was still dejected and inconsolable the next morning, and would receive no overtures from Wawataysee. The young wife understood. Not that Renée would have wished her any ill, but with the unreason of feminine things she could not endure the sight of their happy faces, the sound of the tender words they exchanged. She went out in the corner of the garden and made her moan, and would not be seen of the friends that came to congratulate the returned captives. Nearly noon a young man paused at the gate, looking a little uncertain. “It is André Valbonais!” cried Wawataysee, with delight. “I will bring him in and you must thank him with your full heart.” Valbonais was bright and smiling, his ragged clothes, that scarcely held together, replaced by a comfortable suit, if not new; his hair trimmed and in good order—a very attractive young fellow now, certainly. “We were going to set out on a search for you,” Wawataysee began. “In some unexpected manner we lost sight of you last night. How did you fare?” “Oh, not badly,” with a cheerful smile. “I knew you would go to friends who would be overjoyed to see you, and I wandered down a street, trying to find an inn, for I was not sure I would be allowed to stop in the street all night. So in my inquiry I met some one who knew my uncle, Pierre Valbonais, who, it seems, is at work in your great mill, and who lives beyond the court-house, in the Rue des Grainges. My faith, but you are a very hospitable folk,” and his eyes shone with a joyous light. “This M. Pion would give me some supper and a bed, and we talked over my adventures smoking our pipes.” “I am glad you found a friend. It was our desire to take you in. And your relative?” with a slight hesitation. “I found my way to the mill, and the uncle greeted me cordially. There is an aunt and some cousins, it seems, and I am to make my home with them for the present. Moreover, I find there is plenty of work to do and I shall be happy. Where is the little maid?” Wawataysee explained Renée’s grief at finding her uncle had not returned from his search. Then M. Marchand took him through to the shop, and was so earnest in his gratitude that it touched Valbonais deeply. Renée came out of her garden corner as he was going away. Her pretty eyes were swollen with weeping.