"'Does not the sweet Julie remember?' "I looked at him in astonishment, but could not see any familiar
likeness in his face."
"'Does little Julie remember many years ago? Wild men stole her away
from her home, and a Cree chief rode to the village of the robbers,
and smote them in their tents. Then he took upon his saddle a little
girl with skin like the peach, and lips like the rose in bud. He
carried her to his home upon the banks of the Saskatchewan, and she
lived two years in his tent. During the summer days she played among
the flowers, or hooked gold-fish in the river. She had a companion
who was ever at her side, the chief's son, whom the people called
Little Poplar. He loved the maiden, and when they took her away to
her home upon the far prairie, he mourned by day and by night, and
vowed that he would leave no house or wigwam unsearched till he saw
his maid again. To-night as he came to this cottage he saw the face
that he has sought in vain for so many years. He now stands before
the maiden of his heart. Sweet, ma Julie, do you forget your little
boy lover of the sunny Saskatchewan?' "Ah, my mistress, what could I say when it all came back so plain,
and told in his rich, deep, musical voice? I do not know whether it
was wrong or no; but without speaking any word to my beautiful chief
I went up to him and laid my head against his breast. And he kissed
me, and kissed me again, and stroked my hair; and whispered in my ear
that when the war was over he would come and wed me, and fetch me
wherever my heart desired. But I said that I would not live apart
from you; that I had consecrated my life to the service of my sweet
mistress.
"'I have seen her,' he replied. 'Her face is beautiful and good;'
and then, mademoiselle, the silly chief said a great big untruth, but
I know he only did so because he loves me so much. He declared, ma
belle mademoiselle, that I was just as pretty as my mistress."
"Your beauty is only equalled by your naivete;" Annette exclaimed,
fondly brushing back a stray lock from the forehead of the little
maid.
"I have no doubt that your chief is good, brave, and handsome; but
he should be all these in a high degree before he is worthy to get
such a girl as yourself, ma Julie. Now, away to your bed, and sleep
of your lover. I go, too, for I am tired."
With the morrow's sun all the neutral tribes were astir and mixing
their paint; and long before Annette or her little maid had risen,
Colonel Marton had saddled his horse, and ridden towards the
rendez-vous at Burnt Hills.