expend the pent-up wrath of days, even though upon an unoffending object. a bit of white thread around the handle of Mr. Brackett's, and then we'll be sure not to make any mistake." Molly did as desired, and so far as human cal-time had created some little bustle and confusion culation could go, Monsieur Defoe was sure of having his single cup of tea at each meal from his own special and particular teapot. The days passed by, and still the mystery that from the first had clung about the Defoes seemed to increase rather than diminish. They made no attempt to seek, in fact they evidently avoided, the companionship of their fellow-guests, going out alone or with a guide upon their frequent fishing and sailing excursions, never speaking unless addressed, and then in the curt, constrained manner of people who were determined to hold as little intercourse as possible with the world about them. To this general ostracism of their fellow-guests there was, however, one exception, and that was found in the person of the jolliest, most social and popular gentleman at the hotel, the owner of the Japanese teapot before mentioned, Mr. Brackett. For some reason best known to himself, the unsocial Frenchman really took some little pains to render himself agreeable to the hearty-tempered Yankee, who in his turn took him in tow, with much the same benevolent air as a great burly Newfoundland might deign to fraternize with a snappish poodle; and the two fished, rowed, tramped and played croquet together with an equanimity astonishing to the lookers-on, who all to a man predicted some sudden and violent rupture to an intimacy so strange and unintelligible. An unexpected influx of guests just at dinner among the kitchen magnates; so that when the pretty waitress who served at the Defoe table brought in the precious teapot as usual, her heightened color and flurried manner instantly revealed to Monsieur's suspicious eyes that she was somewhat bewildered by the multiplicity of her duties; and with a selfish instinct characteristic of the man, he glanced from her flushed face to the sacred burden that she bore, half expecting to see some horrible dent or mutilation of his cherished treasure. It was intact, and he drew a long sigh of relief and settled himself back comfortably in his chair; but as his wife proceeded as usual to pour the tea, his eye caught sight of some secret sign or mark visible only to himself, and uttering a loud exclamation, he started up, his face so inflamed with rage that he seemed a demon rather than a man, while, in a voice hoarse with passion, he cried, fiercely: "Sacre! It is the tea urn of my foe, he that I do hate; thus do I spit upon the accursed scoundrel, they call him Brackett! How dare you insult me with the urn from which he drink?” and seizing, in his fury, the offending vessel, filled to the brim as it was with scalding tea, he made as if he would have thrown its contents in the face of the frightened girl, who, with one shriek of uncontrollable terror, fled toward the door, closely pursued by the enraged man, who was evidently too mad with passion to realize in the least what he was about. So sudden and unexpected had been the outbreak, that of the fifty or more guests in the crowded dining-room, no man had the presence of mind to interfere for the poor girl's protection, as she sped across the room closely followed by her pursuer, holding the of fending tea urn aloft, ready at the first opportunity to hurl its contents at her unprotected head. In due time, toc, that rupture came. A slight disagreement in regard to their favorite game, a good-natured remonstrance from Mr. Brackett, met by a fiery rejoinder from his opponent, more words, and at last an insulting epithet hurled from the lips of the enraged Frenchman that even Yankee coolness and philosophy could not over- But at the door a ready and efficient ally look; and the two met at table or upon the broad showed himself in the person of Tom Cross, a piazza of the hotel face to face without a word or well-known guide and hunter, who, barring the look of recognition; only a fiery gleam that shot doorway through which she had escaped with his now and then from Monsieur's little black eyes own sturdy, well-developed figure, managed with revealed how fierce was the smoldering passion one brawny arm to resist the onslaught of the temwithin his breast; and, as evil passions seldom pestuous little Frenchman as easy as he would have wait long for their opportunity, an apparently put aside an angry child, while a smile of grim trivial mistake served in this case as an excuse to humor brightened his dark, determined face as he said, in a voice so soft and low that it seemed strangely out of keeping with the stout burly frame and bronzed face of its owner: can beat Tom Cross with a paddle if you look all the way from Canada to the lake." The lady smiled and nodded with a grace and "This won't do, sir. We don't treat women affability that, as honest Tom afterward declared, like that up this way." For a moment the Frenchman was silent, glaring upon him with the impotent rage of one who feels that he is in a grasp against which it is utter folly to rebel; a crowd of excited guests had, too, by this time gathered about the two, while his wife, laying her hand upon his arm, spoke a few words in some strange foreign tongue that seemed to have a wonderful power over him; for he dropped his head helplessly, while a painful flush rose to his pale, wrinkled forehead, and he whispered hoarsely, shrinking back as he spoke from the gaze of the curious eyes about him: "I do forgive her the mistake; she know no better. But," he added, penitently, for his wife's ear alone, "I can have no pardon for my own mad self." It was impossible to refrain from pitying him, as, completely exhausted, he clung to her arm, while in majestic silence, cold and self-contained as usual, she half carried him up the long stairway that led to their apartments. "I will help him, madam;" and a strong arm drew the helpless, trembling one within its firm embrace, while the face that in the doorway a moment ago had awed the angry man with its stern impenetrability, now beamed with such honest kindliness and good will that the stately dame forebore to refuse, as had been her first impulse, the timely offer; but acknowledging the favor with a gesture, half proud, half grateful, she remarked, with a sigh: actually took away his breath for a whole minute. "He," she nodded toward the couch, "has his afternoon nap between four and five, and I would like you to be in attendance with your boat at that hour." "That I will, ma'am ; I'll be on hand at four, sharp;" and Tom bowed himself out of the room, with an odd, bewildered consciousness about him as of the presence of something or somebody that had been very near to him far away back in the misty shadows of his half-forgotten childhood. "There's something in her voice and the turn of her head that makes me think," and he laughed merrily at the idea, "of my old grandame in the Provinces. When I was there last year, old as she is, she used to speak in just that sweet, hard voice when she asked me about the money that I had laid up, and urged me to get all I could, for it was the best thing that man or woman could have in this world. I wonder what this proud lady would say to hear herself compared to a poor, old Canadian dame.” He laughed again, one of those curious, soundless laughs that men who live much alone with Nature are apt to indulge in; an expression of amusement, unmistakable, yet silent, like that so often observed in the more intelligent of dumb animals, whose merriment, while patent to the most casual observer, never disturbs the outer serenity of their faces as it does that of man alone. That afternoon, floating upon the placid surface "Thank you; he needs a stronger arm than of the lake, whose shiny waves rippled dreamily mine. He will be ill for days after this." The old man, whose little strength had, by the time they reached his room, completely deserted him, was comfortably disposed upon a couch, and his escort, with the natural courtesy of his class, bowed low to the lady as he turned to leave the, room, when suddenly her voice arrested his steps upon the threshold, as she asked, abruptly: about the frail craft, as if softly caressing its satiny sides, the young man, whose peculiarly solitary life had made him especially reticent so far as his own plans and purposes were concerned, suddenly found his tongue loosed as by magic, and in reply to a few careless questions from his companion, related more of his life-history than even the people among whom he had lived from boyhood had ever heard or dreamed. "Yes," in reply to a question of his nationality, "I was born in Canada, of French parents, and lived with my old grandmother there until I was fifteen, when I came here as a chore boy about the hotel. The landlord nicknamed me Tom,' and so everybody called me 'Tom Cross; but my real name is Amibel de la Crosse.' Did the canoe give a sudden lurch just at that moment and frighten the lady? for, with a sudden, sharp cry, she made as if she would have risen to her feet, while a face white as the face of the dead looked out at the young man from beneath the drooping brim of her hat, and holding up one hand with a quick, warning gesture,' she cried, sharply: "Not that! Mon Dieu, you are deceiving me!" "Down! Be still, or you will swamp us!" cried poor Tom, with a frantic endeavor to keep the frail craft from capsizing with its helpless freight. "One must keep very still in a birch," he added, in explanation; and drawing a long breath of relief as the canoe righted itself, while he experienced a feeling of profound thankfulness that he had not been left floundering in the middle of the lake with a drowning woman clinging to him, thus making his destruction as well as her own almost certain. Perhaps the haughty dame resented the tone of command that he had so unconsciously assumed; for she sat perfectly silent and motionless for several moments, and when she again spoke the kindly condescension had vanished from her tone; instead, she spoke with a sharpness that had beneath it an ill-concealed chord of either curiosity or dread. "You lived with your grandmother, you say? Were your parents dead ?" "My father was." "And your-mother?" "Deserted, abandoned me in my cradle." Everybody said that Tom Cross was one of the easiest, best-tempered fellows in the world, with his gay, careless French temperament; but if they could have seen him then-the sternly compressed lips, white and set beneath the thick, black mustache, and a smoldering fire in the dark eyes that told of a life-long hidden bitterness-they would have realized that beneath that careless exterior there were depths of feeling, of bitter feeling that none had, and few would care to fathom. A long, shuddering thrill passed over the woan opposite, and she pressed her hand for an nstant to her heart, as she asked: "Do you know why she did so ?" "Yes ;" and he showed his white teeth for an nstant in a mocking smile. "She was poor. A och man saw her, and loved her beauty. He said to her, 'I will make you my wife; you shall wear silks and jewels, live idly, and sleep softly; but the boy I will not have. He looks at me with his father's eyes; yes, and I hate him. Leave him with the old grandame, and come you with me.' And she"-the woman bent eagerly forward, and looked into his face with a strange, pleading look in her proud eye. "Well ?" "Went with him; for she loved gold better than her child." As he finished speaking the canoe grated upon the sandy beach, while its owner, apparently forgetful of all that had passed, as he carefully lifted the lady over the side in his strong arms, remarked, modestly, and touching his hat with the air of graceful courtesy natural to the man : "I will be proud of your company again, madam, when you will like another sail in my birch. I can show you very many pleasant places about here any fine day when the lake is smooth." She looked at him silently for a moment, then with a quick, burning blush overspreading her face, she dropped into his hand the bit of silver due for his services as boatman, and turning, without a word, walked swiftly up the path to the hotel, where, for the next three days, not one of the curious guests caught a glimpse either of herself or husband. A wonder-loving young lady who occupied the adjoining room, told in mysterious whispers of stormy altercations and tearful pleadings and reproaches; but the landlord, when questioned upon the subject, gravely remarked that "Monsieur was very ill, and his wife devoted herself entirely to the care of him," an explanation that proved satisfactory to all but one, and that one the humble, unnoted guide, Tom Cross. He was not given to making mysteries and weaving romances about the scores of strange people that he met in his daily life, this unlearned, unimaginative, young fellow who held himself ready, at two dollars a day, to act the part of guide, purveyor, and cook to the oddest, grumpiest party who had ever been lured thither by the lovely scenery and famous trouting privileges, to find a delightful novelty in penetrating the recesses of the unbroken forest, and for a few days or weeks to live the unrestrained, care-free life of a genuine woodsman. And yet the strange lady's unmistakable emotion, so utterly at vari ance with her usual air of cold indifference, was a mystery that he found himself unable either to solve or forget. Perhaps, and for an instant his heart burned hot within him, perhaps she might have known his mother, have heard the story from her own lips, and was naturally astonished and agitated at hearing it again, and from so unexpected a source. But this supposition did not seem, after all, a reasonable one, when he remembered to have heard his grandmother, who mentioned the subject as seldom as possible, say that his mother's husband was a tea merchant, and that she had sailed with him for China as soon as they were married. This grand lady, who spoke such good English, and wore such rich and fashionable attire had surely never been in that "heathen land," as Tom called it; for the simple fellow had the idea that all foreigners migrating to that far-off region wore of necessity the conventional pig-tail and loose trousers of the race with whom they had associated themselves, and of course spoke a language to match the same. It was the evening of the third day since that memorable sail, and the guide sat alone upon a large rock that jutted out into the water at a secluded part of the shore, lazily trolling for the fish that at that hour often ventured so close to the beach that their crimson and gold-spotted sides gleamed up through the transparent water as if in mockery of the angler's presence and skill. Tom was a crack fisherman, as everybody allowed; but just now it was evident that his mind was more intent upon other things; for laying down his rod at the very instant that a big trout was about to make a dart at the bait, he drew from his pocket a small silver coin, and turning it over and over in his broad palm, silently regarded it with a curious, half-wistful look. "I have seen no such piece of silver money before. Even the grandames, who have a stocking full of silver, have nothing like this. Perhaps," and a sudden glow sprang to his dark face, "it is a Chinese coin." He spoke the last words aloud in his eager unconsciousness, and his heart gave a quick bound as a low voice close to his elbow remarked, composedly : "Yes, it is Chinese money; but quite as good silver as your quarter dollars in this country." It was the stranger lady, and there was a halfdefiant, half-anxious tone in her voice that seemed scarcely in keeping with the calm, cold beauty nắ her regal face, or the easy indifference of her attitude as she leaned slightly against the trunk of a gigantic pine that overshadowed them both. The young man started up in some confusion; but with a peremptory wave of her jeweled hand, she bade him be silent, while she spoke in her usual low, even tones: "You are poor and obscure," she began, abruptly, "and your daily life is one of toil and hardships. You earn your money a few dollars at a time, and so slow that even with the most careful economy, you will be long past middle age before you can hope to enjoy the comforts of a home and fireside of your own." He nodded his head gravely. Perhaps the memory of a certain pair of laughing hazel eyes, whose long lashes always sank shyly beneath the lovelight in his own, lent a bitterness to the truth at this strange woman so pitilessly held up before him, and made him feel, for the first time perhaps in all his life, angrily discontented with his humble lot; but he made no reply in words, only drew his black brows to a deeper frown, and tapped sullenly with the strange coin upon the bare face of the rock beneath. She paused a moment, as if to gather new courage, then went on, resolutely: "I am rich, richer than you can even imagine, and all I have now, and will have at my husband's death, may be yours as my own and only son." For one dizzy moment, mountain, lake, and shore were blended in one wild, confused chaos. Familiar things that all his life he had looked upon with careless, indifferent eyes, seemed suddenly transformed into something weird and strange, and he trembled and put out his hands gropingly as one walking in the midst of a great and sudden darkness that has fallen upon him without a moment's warning. Even in his bewilderment, however, he was conscious of a warm thrill of filial affection that welled up from his honest heart toward the woman standing there in the purple twilight, pale but unruffled, as if this revelation were nothing more to her than a mere business transaction, and he lifted his eyes in a mute appeal, as if to read in that beautiful face some answering emotion of motherly love; but in vain. She never even stretched out her hand to meet the one he had unconsciously ex tended, while not a thrill either of joy or pain disturbed her fair face, as she remarked, in an explanatory tone: "If I had had children by Monsieur Defoe to inherit his fortune, I should never have claimed you as my son, as I should have had nothing to bestow upon you." "Nothing?" he gasped, harshly; but she took no notice of his emotion, except by a slight frown. "Now-and Monsieur sees it as I do-we can do no better than to accept you as our heir. A private tutor and a few years travel abroad will make you presentable, I think, in spite of your early years of obscurity and ignorance. But," she paused for a moment, as if half ashamed to speak the words, "you will take our name, and pass with the world as our adopted son. The fact of my early marriage is to remain a secret between us forever." The young man lifted his head and looked sternly into her expectant face. His eyes flashed, and he drew himself up with an air and gesture every whit as proud as her own, while he replied, with bitter emphasis: "I will never sell myself, even to her who will not be called my mother! It is no boy, madam, but a man, and he will be poor forever; but he cares not for you who are ashamed to call him son." The poor fellow's voice faltered as he spoke the last bitter words, and leaning his head against the rough tree trunk as naturally as if it had been the bosom of a friend, tears, such as he had not shed for many a long year, ran down his bronzed cheeks, and dropped upon the mossy turf beneath. In all this toilsome, rough life, no pain like this had ever wrung his stout heart to tears that he scorned even while he could not check them. Madame alone seemed perfectly unmoved. She had evidently schooled herself to act the part that she had chosen with dignity and decision; no gentle emotion was to interfere between herself and her purpose. stately figure disappeared through one of the leafy forest paths so quickly that the bewildered man was half ready to believe that what he had heard was but a dream after all. Trusted and liked. by all, he had no familiar friend and confidant to whom he could go for sympathy and counsel in this sudden and unexpected strait; and, following the natural instincts of one whose life has been largely passed in the unpeopled solitudes of the forest, he naturally sought them among the scenes most congenial to his silent, self-contained nature-the voiceless, yet never lonely forest glades and walks, pathless to a stranger eye, yet as familiar to his foot as are the city streets to one who has trodden them from his babyhood. The first gray dawn was creeping over the eastern mountains like a faithful watchman, awaking the topmost peaks, while the lower ridges, still enshrouded in darkness, gave no sign as yet of throwing off their nightly slumber. Even the lake itself looked weird and ghostly in its veil of silvery mist, that, as Tom Cross leisurely paddled his light birch across its sleeping face, was gradually lifted as if in graceful acknowledgment of this early visit on the part of its old friend, whose troubled brow gradually cleared as point after point, long familiar to his eyes, came into view, and from the thickets the birds, thrifty little householders, began to bestir themselves and send forth a social greeting to their friends and neighbors a greeting so familiar to the young boatman that he broke into a cheery, answering whistle, laughing aloud as his tiny friends, evidently entering into the "joke of the thing,' replied with a burst of song that filled the fresh, sweet morning air with melody, and fell upon his ear with that familiar, fond significance that only those who are perfectly en rapport with Nature in her most gracious moods can really understand and enjoy. "Aha, Monsieur sly-pate!" he cried, as a sleek, shining head, with two black beady eyes appeared above the water, evidently swimming for the canoe. "After your breakfast, eh?" and taking a cracker from his pocket he scattered it in crumbs in the bottom of the birch, and resting his paddle waited in perfect silence the approach of his curious guest, who was none other than a large muskNot a farewell look, not a smile even, as her rat, who approached as fearlessly as if the light "You are excited and astonished," she said, calmly, "and do not realize what you are saying. Think it over, and let me know your decision in the morning, for we must leave by the afternoon boat. Good-night." |