The true meaning of the danger that she had run for him gave Jim Horton a new and lively sense of his obligations and responsibilities to this strange creature. He caught her hand to his lips and kissed it warmly.
"How can I ever repay you?" he blurted out.
Her face flushed gently and she regarded him with eyes almost maternal.
"What a boy you are!" she laughed.
"But a stranger to you. To have run such risks—to have made such a struggle just because you knew I was helpless."
"It amuse' me, Jeem 'Orton. Sometimes I t'ink it is fear dat is de grande passion—when one has tasted everyt'ing else in life. Fear. To succeed in an adventure like this—Et nous voilà! Quite safe and comfortable—an' each of us 'as made a friend. Is not dees wort' all de trouble?"
"Piquette!" he said, "you're a wonder! I'll never forget——"
"Ah, yes, you will, mon petit," she broke in with a shrug, "you are different from 'Arry. You are always le grand serieux. It was what I noticed at Javet's. You will love much, but you will never lie jus' to make a woman 'appy. And me—you will forget, Jeem 'Orton."
"Never," he said stoutly, "never, Piquette. You're the bravest, squarest woman in the world."
She laughed again. "Allons! For dat—I shall kees you, mon ami."