afraid!" I continued.  "I will leave you in this discomfort no longer than you thought it necessary to leave me so. You shall be free after to-morrow's sunrise, if not before. Farewell, good Father, and may you rest well! Let me borrow this ring as a pledge for the safe return of the fragment of my good shirt which you hold so obstinately between your teeth!"  And drawing his ring from his finger I turned away and plunged into the forest, where Tamin presently joined me. 

 Tamin chuckled, deep in his stomach. 

 "My turn now!" said he.  "Give me the ring, M'sieu, and I'll give you the boy!" 

 "I see you take me!" said I, highly pleased at his quick discernment. 

 We now made way at leisure back to the canoes, and our plans ripened as we went. 

 Before we came within hearing of the Indians I gave over the ring with final directions, to Tamin, and then hastened toward the point of land which runs far out beyond the mouth of the Habitants. Around this point, as I knew, lay the little creek-mouth wherein Tamin kept his boat. Beyond the point, perchance a furlong, was a narrow sand-spit covered deep at every flood tide. In a thicket of fir bushes on the bluff over against this sand-spit I lay down to wait for what Tamin should bring to pass. I had some little time to wait; and here let me unfold, as I learned it after, what Tamin did whilst I waited. 

 About sunset, the tide being far out, and the Indians beginning to expect their Abbé's return, came Tamin to them running in haste along the trail from Pereau, as one who carried orders of importance. Going straight to the chief, he pointed derisively at Marc, whose back was towards him, and cried:— 

 "The good father commands that you take this dog of a spy straightway to the sand-spit that lies off the point yonder. There you will drive a strong stake into the sand, and bind the fellow to it, and leave him there, and return here to await the Abbé's coming. You shall do no hurt to the spy, and set no mark upon him. When the tide next ebbs you will go again to the sand-spit and bring his body back; and if the Abbé finds any mark upon him, you will get no pay for this venture. You will make your camp here to-night, and if the good father be not returned to you by sunrise to-morrow, you will go to meet him along the Pereau trail, for he will be in need of you." 

 The tall chief grunted, and eyed him doubtfully. After a brief contemplation he inquired, in broken 

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