“Mon Dieu!” he breathed.

In the next instant he had given a sharp cry of wonder that mingled with a sudden yell of pain from McTaggart.  Like a flash Baree had darted across the floor and fastened his teeth in the factor’s leg.  They had bitten deep before McTaggart freed himself with a powerful kick.  With an oath he snatched his revolver from its holster.  The Willow was ahead of him.  With a little cry she darted to Baree and caught him in her arms.  As she looked up at McTaggart, her soft, bare throat was within a few inches of Baree’s naked fangs.  Her eyes blazed.

“You beat him!” she cried.  “He hates you—­hates you—­”

“Let him go!” called Pierrot in an agony of fear.

“Mon Dieu!  I say let him go, or he will tear the life from you!”

“He hates you—­hates you—­hates you—­” the Willow was repeating over and over again into McTaggart’s startled face.  Then suddenly she turned to her father.  “No, he will not tear the life from me,” she cried.  “See!  It is Baree.  Did I not tell you that?  It is Baree!  Is it not proof that he defended me—­”

“From me!” gasped McTaggart, his face darkening.

Pierrot advanced and laid a hand on McTaggart’s arm.  He was smiling.

“Let us leave them to fight it out between themselves, m’sieu,” he said.  “They are two little firebrands, and we are not safe.  If she is bitten—­”

He shrugged his shoulders.  A great load had been lifted from them suddenly.  His voice was soft and persuasive.  And now the anger had gone out of the Willow’s face.  A coquettish uplift of her eyes caught McTaggart, and she looked straight at him half smiling, as she spoke to her father: 

“I will join you soon, mon pere—­you and M’sieu the Factor from Lac Bain!”

There were undeniable little devils in her eyes, McTaggart thought—­little devils laughing full at him as she spoke, setting his brain afire and his blood to throbbing wildly.  Those eyes—­full of dancing witches!  How he would take pleasure in taming them—­very soon now!  He followed Pierrot outside.  In his exultation he no longer felt the smart of Baree’s teeth.

“I will show you my new cariole that I have made for winter, m’sieu,” said Pierrot as the door closed behind them.

Half an hour later Nepeese came out of the cabin.  She could see that Pierrot and the factor had been talking about something that had not been pleasant to her father.  His face was strained.  She caught in his eyes the smolder of fire which he was trying to smother, as one might smother flames under a blanket.  McTaggart’s jaws were set, but his eyes lighted up with pleasure when he saw her.  She knew what it was about.  The factor from Lac Bain had been demanding his answer of Pierrot, and Pierrot had been telling him what she had insisted upon—­that he must come to her.  And he was coming!  She turned with a quick beating of the heart and hurried down a little path.  She heard McTaggart’s footsteps behind her, and threw the flash of a smile over her shoulder.  But her teeth were set tight.  The nails of her fingers were cutting into the palms of her hands.