As they talked Martine wondered and wondered who her rescuer could be. Both his language and his subjects of conversation were not what she would have expected from a grocer's boy, for that was what he called himself once or twice, and in the back of the wagon there was a large kerosene can, with one or two empty boxes, as well as some packages that certainly looked like groceries. But she did not waste much time in speculating, because she found so many things to ask that she had never thought to ask any one else before. "Didn't realize that the first mill on the Continent was built at Annapolis?"--said her companion, "and you from Chicago, where people are supposed to think and dream about flour and grain? I am surprised. And you didn't know that Membertou, that old Indian, is reckoned the first convert made in America? Dear me, where have you been brought up?" "Oh, I'm learning," responded Martine. "I'd never heard about the Acadians until we came down here. But now I think they're just great; don't you?" "I should hardly call them great," returned the other, with a smile, "although there's any amount of interesting history connected with them; but I've always taken more interest myself in the early days of Port Royal than in the exile of the Acadians. I wish they'd change the name of Goat Island back to Biencourtville, for that's what it's called on Lescarbot's map." "Oh," replied Martine, not knowing what else to say. She knew nothing about Lescarbot and less about his map, but she didn't wish to display her ignorance. "I remember Biencourt," she added meekly; "he had a very hard time, hadn't he?" The face of the other brightened. "Oh, I'm glad you remember him; he's my idea of a hero. I believe if he had lived Port Royal would have fared much better. Charles La Tour was not at all the same kind of man. But Madame La Tour, ah, she was the right sort! Perhaps you know her story." "No," replied Martine, meekly, "I do not, but probably Amy does." "Who is this paragon, this 'Amy'? You've spoken of her several times; she seems to know everything." "I really think she does," replied Martine--"know almost everything. But I wish you could tell me about Madame La Tour." "There won't be time now, but I could lend you a book, if you stay here longer. She doesn't exactly belong to Annapolis; it was the fort at the mouth of the St. John that she defended. But here we are fairly in the town, and you can consider yourself saved," he concluded with a smile. "Why, there's Mrs. Airton's house!" exclaimed Martine in surprise; "I didn't know you were coming this way." The boy looked at her curiously. "Do you know Mrs. Airton?" "Well, not exactly, for I was out when she called, but she was kind enough to ask me to tea to-day, only I thought I'd like to ride instead. I thought that perhaps I'd be back in time for tea."