"Most surely you have," I retorted, "and the reward has already been given you."
"Been given?" she questioned, "and by whom?"
"The girl Josette."
She looked from the one to the other of us, puzzled for a brief moment at the odd situation. Then, as her eyes settled upon De Croix's flushed and angry face, she laughed gaily, even as she daintily drew aside her skirts to pass us by.
"Pish, Monsieur!" she cried, shaking her finger at him, "I doubt it not. No, you need not deny it, for 't is but one of your old-time tricks, as I knew them well at Montreal. 'T would be no more than right were I even now to reward Master Wayland, for he hath truly won it,—yet for that I will delay awhile."
And with a flash of her dark eyes that held us speechless, she was gone.
CHAPTER XVIII
GLIMPSES OF DANGER
If any trace of anger held place in my heart, it utterly vanished as I noted the bewildered surprise with which De Croix gazed after Mademoiselle's departing figure.
"Sacre!" he exclaimed presently, turning toward me, his face flushed, and forgetful of all his well-practised graces. "'T was an unworthy trick, Master Wayland, and one I am not likely to forget."