The way of egress was easy--a mere step to the flat roof of the kitchen, the dovetailed logs of which afforded a ladder to the ground. I had no object in such adventure, but a restless impulse urged me, and, almost before I realized my action, I was upon the ground. Avoiding the gleam of light which streamed from the open window of the room below, I crossed the garden, and reached the path leading downward to the shore. From this point I could perceive the wide sweep of water, showing silvery in the dim moonlight, and detect the darker rim of the land. There was fire on the point below the huts, and its red glare afforded glimpses of the canoes--mere blurred outlines--and occasionally the figure of a man, only recognizable as he moved. I was still staring at this dim picture when some noise, other than the wind, startled me, and I drew silently back behind a great stump to avoid discovery. My thought was that someone had left the mission house--Cassion perhaps with final orders to those on the beach--but a moment later I realized my mistake, yet only crouched lower in the shadow--a man was advancing from the black concealment of the woods, and crossing the open space. He moved cautiously, yet boldly enough, and his movements were not those of an Indian, although the low bushes between us and the house shadow, prevented my distinguishing more than his mere outline. It was only when he lifted his head into the gleam of light, and took hasty survey through the window of the scene within, that I recognized the face of De Artigny. He lingered scarcely a moment, evidently satisfied with what he saw, and then drew silently back, hesitating a brief space, as though debating his next movement. I waited breathless, wondering what his purpose could be, half inclined to intercept and question him. Was he seeking to serve my cause? to learn the truth of my relationship with Cassion? or did he have some other object, some personal feud in which he sought revenge? The first thought sent the warm blood leaping through my veins; the second left me shivering as if with sudden chill. Even as I stood, hesitating, uncertain, he turned, and retraced his steps along the same path of his approach, passing me not ten steps away, and vanishing into the wood. I thought he paused at the edge, and bent down, yet before I found voice, or determination to stop him, he had disappeared. My courage returned, spurred by curiosity. Why should he take so roundabout a way to reach the shore? What was that black, shapeless thing he had paused to examine? I could see something there, dark and motionless, though to my eyes no more than a shadow. I ventured toward it, creeping behind the bushes bordering the path, conscious of an odd fear as I drew closer. Yet it was not until I emerged from the fringe of shrubbery that even the faintest conception of what the object I saw was occurred to me. Then I stopped, frozen by horror, for I confronted a dead body.