"The most magnificent town in the hull world," said Zac, calmly. "You take the House of Assembly an' Govement House--take King Street and Queen Street, an' I'd like to know whar you'll find a better show any whar on airth." "Sais pas," said Margot; "nevare see Boston. Mais vous--you nevare see Paris--so we are not able to compare." "O, well, it's nat'ral enough for you," said Zac, with magnanimity, "nat'ral enough for you, course, to like your own place best--'twouldn't be nat'ral ef you didn't. All your friends live thar, course. You were born thar, and I s'pose your pa an' ma may be there now, anxiously expectin' to hear from you." Zac put this in an interrogative way, for he wanted to know. But as he said these words, the smiling face of Margot turned sad; she shook her head, and said,-- "No; I have no one, no one!" "What! no relatives!" said Zac, in a voice full of commiseration and tender pity. Margot shook her head. "An' so you've got no father nor mother, an' you're a poor little orphan girl!" said Zac, in a broken voice. Margot shook her head, and looked sadder than over. Tears came to Zac's eyes. He felt as he had never felt before. There was something so inexpressibly touching about this orphan! He took her little hand tenderly in his own great, brown, toil-worn fist, and looked at her very wistfully. For a few moments he said nothing. Margot looked up at him with her great brown eyes, and then looked meekly at the deck. Zac heaved a deep sigh; then he placed his disengaged hand solemnly upon her head. "Wal," said he, gravely, "I'll protect you. Ef anybody ever harms you, you jest come to me. I'll--I'll be--a father to you." Again Margot looked up at him with her great brown eyes. "O, dat's noting," she said. "I don't want you to be my fader. But, all de same, I tink you one very nice man; an' you safe my life; an' I sall not forget--nevare; an' I weesh--. Sall I tell you what I weesh?" "Yes, yes," said Zac, eagerly, with a strange thrill of excitement. Margot threw a quick look around. "Dees Monsieur de Cazeneau," said she, drawing nearer to Zac, and speaking in a low, quick voice, "I 'fraid of heem. Dere is danjaire for my mademoiselle. He is a bad man. He haf a plot--a plan. You moos safe us. Dees Monsieur Motier is no good. You haf safe us from death; you moos safe us from dees danjaire." "How?" asked Zac, who took in at once the meaning of Margot's words, though not fully understanding them. "I will tell. Dess Monsieur de Cazeneau wish to get us to Louisbourg, where he will ruin us all--dat is, de ole count and de mademoiselle. You moos turn about, and take us to Boston." "Take you to Boston! But this schooner is engaged to go to Louisbourg with Mr. Motier." Margot shook her head. "You moos do it," said she, "or we sall be ruin. You moos tell Monsieur Motier--"