The two women worked swiftly and capably, while Lapierre waited, frowning.

“Better hurry, Miss Elliston,” he said, when the last of the bandages was in place.  “This is no place for us to be found if some of MacNair’s Indians happen along.  Your canoe is ready.  Mine is farther down the lake.”

“But, this man—­surely——­”

“Leave him there.  You have done all you can do for him.  His Indians will find him.”

“What!” cried Chloe.  “Leave a wounded man to die in the bush!”

Lapierre stepped closer.  “What would you do ?” he asked.  “Surely you cannot remain here.  His Indians would kill you as they would kill a carcajo.”  The man’s face softened.  “It is the way of the North,” he said sadly.  “I would gladly have spared him—­even though he is my enemy.  But when he whirled with his rifle upon my heart, his finger upon the trigger, and murder in his eye, I had no alternative.  It was his life or mine.  I am glad I did not kill him.”  The words and the tone reassured Chloe, and when she answered, it was to speak calmly.

“We will take him with us,” she said.  “The Indians could not care for him properly even if they found him.  At home I have everything necessary for the handling of just such cases.”

“But, my dear Miss Elliston—­think of the portages and the added burden.  His Indians——­”

The girl interrupted him—­“I am not asking you to help.  I have a canoe here.  If you are afraid of MacNair’s Indians you need not remain.”

The note of scorn in the girl’s voice was not lost upon Lapierre.  He flushed and answered with the quiet dignity that well became him:  “I came here, Miss Elliston, with only three canoemen.  I returned unexpectedly to your school, and when I learned that you had gone to Snare Lake, I followed—­to save you, if possible, from the hand of the Brute.”

Chloe interrupted him.  “You came here for that?”

The man bowed low.  “Knowing what you do of Brute MacNair, and of his hatred of me, you surely do not believe I came here for business—­or pleasure.”  He drew closer, his black eyes glowing with suppressed passion.  “There is one thing a man values more than life—­the life and the safety of the woman he loves!”

Chloe’s eyes dropped.  “Forgive me!” she faltered.  “I—­I did not know—­I—­Oh! don’t you see?  It was all so sudden.  I have had no time to think!  I know you are not afraid.  But, we can’t leave him here—­like this.”

“As you please,” answered Lapierre, gently.

“It is not the way of the North; but——­”

“It is the way of humanity.”

“It is your way—­and, therefore, it is my way, also.  But, let us not waste time!” He spoke sharply to Chloe’s canoemen, who sprang to the unconscious form, and raising it from the ground, carried it to the water’s edge and deposited it in the canoe.

“Make all possible speed,” he said, as Chloe preceded Big Lena into the canoe; “I shall follow to cover your retreat.”