"If I had known this before, I should never have rested until I had hunted you down, until I had killed you, even in the midst of your own people!" cried the Free Trader at last. Galen Albret drew his heavy revolver and laid it on the table. "Do so now," he said, quietly. A pause fell on them, pregnant with possibility. The Free Trader dropped his head. "No," he groaned. "No, I cannot. She stands in the way!" "So that, after all," concluded the Factor, in a gentler tone than he had yet employed, "we two shall part peaceably. I have wronged you greatly, though without intention. Perhaps one balances the other. We will let it pass." "Yes," agreed Ned Trent with an effort, "we will let it pass." They mused in silence, while the Factor drummed on the table with the stubby fingers of his right hand. "I am dispatching to-day," he announced curtly at length, "the Abitibi _brigade_. Matters of importance brought by runner from Rupert's House force me to do so a month earlier than I had expected. I shall send you out with that _brigade_." "Very well." "You will find your packs and arms in the canoe, quite intact." "Thank you." The Factor examined the young man's face with some deliberation. "You love my daughter truly?" he asked, quietly. "Yes," replied Ned Trent, also quietly. "That is well, for she loves you. And," went on the old man, throwing his massive head back proudly, "my people love well! I won her mother in a day, and nothing could stay us. God be thanked, you are a man and brave and clean. Enough of that! I place the _brigade_ under your command! You must be responsible for it, for I am sending no other white--the crew are Indians and _metis_." "All right," agreed Ned Trent, indifferently. "My daughter you will take to Sacre Coeur at Quebec." "Virginia!" cried the young man. "I am sending her to Quebec. I had not intended doing so until July, but the matters from Rupert's House make it imperative now." "Virginia goes with me?" "Yes." "You consent? You--" "Young man," said Galen Albret, not unkindly, "I give my daughter in your charge; that is all. You must take her to Sacre Coeur. And you must be patient. Next year I shall resign, for I am getting old, and then we shall see. That is all I can tell you now." He arose abruptly. "Come," said he, "they are waiting." They threw wide the door and stepped out into the open. A breeze from the north brought a draught of air like cold water in its refreshment. The waters of the North sparkled and tossed in the silvery sun. Ned Trent threw his arms wide in the physical delight of a new freedom. But his companion was already descending the steps. He followed across the square grass plot to the two bronze guns. A noise of peoples came down the breeze. In a moment he saw them--the varied multitude of the Post--gathered to speed the _brigade_ on its distant journey.