son of Lemuel?"

"I did not hear, I saw her shoot the Rapids. I ran to follow. At
Carillon I saw her arrive. She was in the arms of a Gorgio of Lebanon--
Ingolby is his name."

A malediction burst from Gabriel Druse's lips, words sharp and terrible
in their intensity. For the first time since they had met the young man
blanched. The savage was alive in the giant.

"Speak. Tell all," Druse said, with hands clenching.

Swiftly the young man told all he had seen, and described how he had run
all the way--four miles--from Carillon, arriving before Fleda and her
Indian escort.

He had hardly finished his tale, shrinking, as he told it, from the
fierceness of his chief, when a voice called from the direction of the
house.

"Father--father," it cried.

A change passed over the old man's face. It cleared as the face of the
sun clears when a cloud drives past and is gone. The transformation was
startling. Without further glance at his companion, he moved swiftly
towards the house. Once more Fleda's voice called, and before he could
answer they were face to face.

She stood radiant and elate, and seemed not apprehensive of disfavour or
reproach. Behind her was Tekewani and his braves.