It was there that Maud met him. Perhaps if she had been less indifferent, the conquest would not have been so easily accomplished. But the impression was made at the beginning, and notwithstanding her apparent coolness, time seemed only to strengthen the one-sided bond that existed between them.
His heart was in a tumult as he entered the house that night—hope and expectation did not balance each other—and minutes elapsed after meeting Maud before the loud throbs beneath his jerkin ceased.
"I am sure you heard the news?" he said retaining the hand which she attempted to withdraw. "I am ordered to be ready to march with Sir George's men in two days."
"Yes," she replied, finally retracting her hand, "and I congratulate you. Your friends, while sorry to lose you, will be glad of your promotion."
"That is very kind; but I would give the world to know that some one really cared."
He was growing serious already. So she threw back her head and with a gentle laugh exclaimed:
"Oh, my dear doctor, you don't know how much we shall miss you!"
"Mon Dieu, Miss Maud! That is very well. But you know what I mean. When I go away I can't return for a year at least. It is the time, the absence, that I think of. Won't you give me a chance at all? You know how I love you."
"You have your chance now, Doctor—founding a fort—establishing a settlement—perhaps building a city. That should be enough for any man to face."
"But it is not enough, mon ami." The doctor's face flushed and his eyes glittered as he drew his chair nearer. "I want my love returned. I have kept myself straight and pure for love of you, Mademoiselle. Do you care for me at all? Will you not give me one promise before I go?"