"Yes. And, between you and me, father, these Yankees have very sharp noses. They will find it out before long." "Exactly so, my son. For my part, I prefer that Frenchmen should derive the advantage." At this moment a distant gunshot was heard. "Here they come," said François Berger. He then rose, placed his hand over his mouth like a funnel, and twice imitated, with marvellous dexterity and perfection, the cry of the water hawk. A similar cry came in response, and almost immediately afterwards four cavaliers, well mounted, appeared galloping through the high grass and trees, and coming directly towards them. The Canadians held their rifles in their hands, while the newcomers showed no apparent arms. They had left their pistols in the holsters, their sabres were in their scabbards, their rifles by their sides. On coming within a short distance of the two old men the strangers exchanged a few words in a low tone of voice, two of them slackened their pace, while the others rushed forward with the rapidity of the gazelle. In another instant Angela, for it was herself, was in the arms of the friends, answering by cries of joy and tears of happiness the sweet caresses of her relatives and friends. Tom Mitchell and his companions stood apart discreetly, and then, when they saw that the first transports were over or becoming calmer, approached. "Welcome," said the old man, "welcome, gentlemen," holding out his two hands. "Have I kept my promise?" asked Tom Mitchell. "Nobly; I solemnly declare it, and I thank you," cried Berger, with deep emotion. "You have worthily made up for the act you had done. Let us forget the past," said the old man; "what can we do for you?" "Nothing," he said, quietly. "You exact no ransom whatever?" "Why should I exaggerate, old hunter? I was drawn into committing a bad action by a man whose name I will not mention. Though a pirate, I am not so bad as I am painted. I have therefore sought to condone the evil." "Admirably spoken," said François Berger, again embracing his daughter. "Go, darling, to your brother yonder." "Allow me first to thank Captain Mitchell," she said, "for his extreme kindness during my captivity." "You bear me no malice?" "None whatever," she said, "but eternal gratitude. You deserve it and you have it." Then with a gesture of adieu and a sweet smile on her adorable lips she ran off in the direction of the forest. The men waited until she was out of sight. "I will now take my leave," said the outlaw. "One moment," replied the old man; "the recompense which you refuse I must force upon you." He pulled forth a large folded parchment. "This is the ransom of my daughter," he said: "it is a regular deed of gift of the Valley of the Deer." "What!" cried the outlaw, with singular emotion. "Yes, and here on the map is a red mark, indicating the spot where what you know of is concealed." "Accept without scruple, captain," said François Berger; "it is ours and ours alone to give."