FIVE YEARS AFTER.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE MUTE.

PHILIP FRANCOEUR was the first to awake. It was not yet day. Profound darkness, scarcely relieved by the flickering light of a few burning sticks, reigned in the cabin. The sailor listened an instant, leaning on his elbow. The regular cadence of a respiration told him that Guyonne was fast asleep. He then busied himself in lighting the fire. This being done, he placed on the hot cinders an earthen vase, the rude workmanship of which was such as to show that the manufacturers had but little knowledge of kneading fuller's earth; he put some peas into the vase, some grains of Indian corn, some water, covered all with a lid, and sitting on a billet of wood, superintended the cooking of the breakfast.

The flame lit up the cabin, and caused in its interior some combinations of light and shade, truly fantastic.

When the flame of the sticks began to grow pale before the light of day, the young woman opened her eyes.

Philip, who had been watching her, immediately approached her.

"I am well," said Guyonne, divining that he went to inform himself in regard to her health.

66 And your limbs ?"

"A little fatigued," said she, "but I can walk and— monseigneur "

"Noble viscount; he is cruelly charged!" said Philip, with emotion.

"Ah! he is alive!" exclaimed Guyonne, with transport.

"He is alive. Yes; but sorrow and privations-Ah! sad events have passed since that night—and you?"

Guyonne made no reply; she prayed mentally.

The sailor, fearing to interrupt the pious hymn which the young girl offered from her heart to the throne of the Eternal, discreetly retired.

When he returned in a quarter of an hour, Guyonne

was up.

"We are going to breakfast," said Philip, gayly, "and then, if you feel strong enough, we will set out for the camp. The viscount will be so happy

Philip ended this phrase with a significant glance at Guyonne, who blushed.

The sailor was perfectly aware, as we have said, of the sex of the pretended Guyonne; but a sentiment of exqui site delicacy prevented him from showing the young girl,

even under such circumstances, that he possessed that knowledge. Guyonne, on her part, understood very well that her secret was no longer such to Francœur, but her modesty prevented her from feminizing her person. It seemed that a tacit understanding guided these two beings, so noble, so pure, so worthy of being united by the ties of a filial and paternal tenderness.

At all events Malificieux had served the breakfast on a wooden bench.

It was a frugal meal: some maise soup, and some fish, broiled on the coals. But hunger seasoned it; and the guests did it honor.

When they had done, Philip remarked:

"Now, we are able to navigate towards the camp."

"Oh, yes, yes! let us start," replied she eagerly.

"One moment, one moment! Before sailing it is necessary to take in ballast, yes, indeed, by the trident of Neptune! Come, take a mouthful !” ·

Guyonne made a gesture of refusal.

"Drink, drink!" insisted the sailor.

"We have twelve "

full knots to sail, and a drop of this liquor

"No, I thank you."

"It will do you no harm; on the contrary, yes, indeed.It is a distillation of our invention, you see, my boy! Just a small drop!"

Much more to avoid disobliging him, than on account of any taste she had for it, the young girl accepted. She con

tented herself with moistening her lips with the gourd. which Philip handed her. Malificieux swallowed three or four mouthfulls, smacked his lips, and taking two clubs from the corner of the cabin:

"Let us weigh anchor," said he, presenting one of the sticks to Guyonne.

He opened the door, and a flood of dazzling light invaded the hut.

"Let you walk in front ?" said Philip.

"What?"

Ah! if

"By the star-board! you don't know all the devilish tricks these damned soldiers have played on us. they could prevent the colonists from fishing

While making this remark, he heaped up the snow before the cabin, went on the roof, covered the chimney-hole with a plate of ice, and covered the ice, in turn, with snow, so that, at a distance, the hut had the appearance of a large heap of ice, massed by the wind.

After he had finished it, he rejoined the young girl, who looked mournfully at the sea.

"What is the matter with my child?" asked he, seeing that her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, good Philip, I am grieved," replied she in broken

accents.

"Come," said the sailor in a tone of sympathy which touched her to the heart, "you will tell me your troubles on the way, and this will console you."

She disengaged herself from her painful reverie, and followed him.

The sky was clear, and of a turquoise blue. In the mirror of the Atlantic the sun reflected his golden rays. A light breeze trembled across the branches of the trees. It was the opening of one of those fine April days, full of promises of balmy spring.

The two travellers walked on in silence, as absorbed in their own reflections.

The way they passed was very difficult, full of hills and hollows, formed by fragments of ice. But when they had removed a little from the sea-shore, the route became more practicable. Then Philip remarked, shaking his head: "Five years ago!"

"Five years!" repeated she, like an echo.

"Ah! that cursed Chedotel!"

The young girl grew pale.

"If ever I lay my grapple upon him

"Probably the Castor has been wrecked."

"Wrecked? no;" said Philip in a mournful tone; "there is something that tells me that."

"But enough. By the trident of Neptune, the carcass of Malificieux is still solid, yes, indeed!"

"My God, what an existence for monseigneur, the viscount!" murmured the young girl.

"An existence which has blanched and bent him like an old man," said Philip sadly. "Brave young man, he has borne all-hunger, thirst, cold, nakedness, and with