"'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.
The bright, windless day passed over the prairie, and whenever Annette spoke of the bravery of Captain Stephens, Julie would tell some praises of the chief with the graceful loins and the great luminous eye.
"Your lover has said that he would come to see you, Julie, but, ah me, in these troublesome times Captain Stephens can no more return to our cottage. Do you know, my little friend, that I cannot bear being cooped up here during all this strife and tumult, when brave men and defenceless women are at the mercy of savages and ill-advised men of our own class. There have been evil and oppressive doings by government and its agents, but I do not think that Monsieur Riel and my father have taken the prudent course to remove the wrongs. It will not be fair or honorable war; for when the savage and cruel instincts of the red men are once aroused, they will treat the innocent like the guilty, and neither woman nor child will be safe from their horrible vengeance. Therefore, Annette, I have made up my mind to go forth tomorrow in my Indian-boy disguise.