PAGE "That morning, a canoe containing two savages came up past him." _Frontispiece_ "He rolled the dazed man on to his face and bound his arms behind his back." 88 "He seized the money and threw it in the Chevalier's face." 140 "'Say, you fellers as hev breeches ought ter bring us in a bite ter eat.'" 244 RODNEY, THE RANGER CHAPTER I "YOU--YOU SIMPLETON!" A sturdy boy in homespun, a lad of nearly fourteen years, whose eyes were clear and gray and whose face was resolute and honest, led his little sister by the hand, for she was small and the road was rough. "We'll rest, 'Omi, when we come to the big tree. Are you cold?" he asked, for there was the chill of March in the wind, though the sun lay very warm in the sheltered places. "No. Who?" she asked, pointing a tiny hand at two riders turning the corner, a youth of about seventeen and a young girl. Their horses were spirited and the black groom following urged his horse. The youth was not attractive, though his riding habit was the fashionable product of a London tailor in the style of 1772. His hair was dark, his eyes steely blue and set close to a long nose; his mouth was ill adapted to a pleasant smile. The girl was attractive, a fact people were quick to recognize, and she was so accustomed to seeing them turn and look after her that she would have been piqued had they not done so. Her ways were wilful but there was a grace in them all. Mischief lurked in the dark blue eyes, which now lighted with genuine pleasure. She fluttered from her horse as a bird alights and threw her arms around the child, exclaiming, "And how is little Naomi?" Then, holding the child from her, she looked in her face and said, "You are a dear. Aren't you proud of her, Rodney?" "She's just as good as she looks," the boy replied, blushing with pleasure, and then glanced at the youth, who did not appear to notice him but slyly spurred his horse, so that the animal in swerving would have knocked Rodney into the ditch had the lad not been nimble. "Nith; red," said the child, clutching the girl's scarlet cloak. "Yes, and you like my poor, old red hat, too, don't you? though Cousin Mogridge says it ill becomes me." "Eth, pretty too," and the child pouted her lips for a kiss. Not one, but several, were most graciously given her with the admonition: "Next time you be sure and remember me and my name. Say Lisbeth Danesford." "Lithbeth Danethford," repeated the child, looking up into the face of the girl, her big, brown eyes full of seriousness. "I like 'oo." "Have a care, 'Omi, for once Lisbeth knows that she'll treat you as she does her other admirers."