"You are right, Toinette," broke in a voice at my back. "I know not what Master Wayland may be yielding up so easily, but, like the Shylock of your William Shakespeare, I am here to claim my pound of flesh." I wheeled and faced him, standing firmly between his approach and the girl, my blood instantly boiling at the familiar sound of that drawling voice. "I have refused to accept from Mademoiselle what I had not fairly earned," I said, with quiet emphasis, "and so, no doubt, will you." There was that about my words and action that astonished him, and for the moment his old audacity was gone as he swept a puzzled glance over our faces. I have often reflected upon the contrast we must have presented to her sight as we stood there,--for De Croix had donned his best attire, and was once again resplendent in frills and ribbons, with heavily powdered hair. "Oh, most certainly, what I have not earned," he said at length, "but the kiss promised is surely mine by every right, as I was the first in." "'Twas done by a most scurvy trick." "Poof! what of that? 'Tis the same whether the goal be won by wit and strategy, or mere fleetness of foot. Toinette will make no such fine distinction, I warrant you." "Mademoiselle," and I turned toward the smiling girl, who seemingly enjoyed our interchange of compliments, "what may have been your understanding of this wager?" "Why," she answered slowly, endeavoring to recall the details to mind, "Captain de Croix declared he would willingly make the trip for a touch of rosy lips, and In a spirit of venture I promised that whichever of you two first completed the journey and returned here should obtain such reward." "There, 'tis plain enough," he cried, stroking his mustache complacently, "and I have won." "Most surely you have," I retorted, "and the reward has already been given you." "Been given?" she questioned, "and by whom?" "The girl Josette." She looked from the one to the other of us, puzzled for a brief moment at the odd situation. Then, as her eyes settled upon De Croix's flushed and angry face, she laughed gaily, even as she daintily drew aside her skirts to pass us by. "Pish, Monsieur!" she cried, shaking her finger at him, "I doubt it not. No, you need not deny it, for 'tis but one of your old-time tricks, as I knew them well at Montreal. 'Twould be no more than right were I even now to reward Master Wayland, for he hath truly won it,--yet for that I will delay awhile." And with a flash of her dark eyes that held us speechless, she was gone. CHAPTER XVIII GLIMPSES OF DANGER If any trace of anger held place in my heart, it utterly vanished as I noted the bewildered surprise with which De Croix gazed after Mademoiselle's departing figure. _"Sacre!"_ he exclaimed presently, turning toward I me, his face flushed, and forgetful of all his well-practised graces. "'Twas an unworthy trick, Master Wayland, and one I am not likely to forget."