he would not be an exile, else you would not have promised to marry
him. Be assured that he is following you, and is probably not far
behind. Do you want him to find you, mademoiselle?"

I turned with the last word, and looked her full in the face. It was a
stupid trick, but it served. I had her answer.

"There!" I cried, and I laughed a little jerkily. "Never mind. Don't
answer. We have talked enough, mademoiselle. We will be married at
noon to-day. Ah, you never loved him, else, no matter what he had
done, you could never look as you look now. Wherever he is, or
whatever kind of man he may be, I do him no wrong in giving you my name
to-day." I took the pictured birch bark from my pocket, and tore it in
fine strips. "A useless map," I said in explanation. "Mademoiselle,
may I have your finger to measure?"

She gave me her hand, and I circled her finger with a grass blade, and
warned her that the ring that I should give her would be almost as
crude. She was trying to keep herself from asking questions, and was
going to succeed. I liked that. It was useless to terrify her with
fables of prowling Indians, and profiles on bark. And then, what was
there to tell? I knew at once too much and too little. I took some
bent gold wire from my pocket, and showed it to her.

"I am going to plait it into a braid for the ring," I said. "I think
that I can file the ends, and make it serve. It is all I have. I wear
no jewelry, and would not give you one of the brass rings we use in
trade. This is at least gold."

She watched me straighten the kinks in the wire. "You took that from