mademoiselle　consoles　herself！〃
  Monsieur　Ribaud　never　knew　how　near　he　was　to　the　white　road　below
  the　railing　at　that　particular　moment。　　Luckily；　Dick　controlled
  himself；　and　wisely；　as　Monsieur　Ribaud's　next　sentence　showed　him。
  〃A　romance；an　innocent；　foolish　liaison；　if　you　like；but；　all
  the　same；　if　known　of　a　Mademoiselle　de　Fontonelles；　a　compromising；
  a　fatal　entanglement。　　There　you　are。　　Look！　for　this；　then；　all
  this　story　of　cock　and　bulls　and　spirits！　　Mademoiselle　has　been
  discovered　with　her　lover　by　some　one。　　This　pretty　story　shall　stop
  their　mouths！〃
  〃But　wot；〃　said　Dick　brusquely；　〃wot　if　the　girl　was　really　skeert
  at　something　she'd　seen；　and　fainted　dead　away；　as　she　said　she
  did；andand〃he　hesitated〃some　stranger　came　along　and　picked
  her　up？〃
  Monsieur　Ribaud　looked　at　him　pityingly。
  〃A　Mademoiselle　de　Fontonelle　is　picked　up　by　her　servants；　by　her
  family；　but　not　by　the　young　man　in　the　woods；　alone。　　It　is　even
  more　compromising！〃
  〃Do　you　mean　to　say；〃　said　Dick　furiously；　〃that　the　ragpickers　and
  sneaks　that　wade　around　in　the　slumgallion　of　this　country　would
  dare　to　spatter　that　young　gal？〃
  〃I　mean　to　say；　yes；assuredly；　positively　yes！〃　said　Ribaud；
  rubbing　his　hands　with　a　certain　satisfaction　at　Dick's　fury。　　〃For
  you　comprehend　not　the　position　of　la　jeune　fille　in　all　France！
  Ah！　in　America　the　young　lady　she　go　everywhere　alone；　I　have　seen
  herpretty；　charming；　fascinatingalone　with　the　young　man。　　But
  here；　no；　never！　　Regard　me；　my　friend。　　The　French　mother；　she　say
  to　her　daughter's　fiance；　'Look！　there　is　my　daughter。　　She　has
  never　been　alone　with　a　young　man　for　five　minutes；not　even　with
  you。　　Take　her　for　your　wife！'　　It　is　monstrous！　it　is　impossible！
  it　is　so！〃
  There　was　a　silence　of　a　few　minutes；　and　Dick　looked　blankly　at
  the　iron　gates　of　the　park　of　Fontonelles。　　Then　he　said：　〃Give　me
  a　cigar。〃
  Monsieur　Ribaud　instantly　produced　his　cigar　case。　　Dick　took　a
  cigar；　but　waved　aside　the　proffered　match；　and　entering　the　cafe；
  took　from　his　pocket　the　letter　to　Mademoiselle　de　Fontonelles；
  twisted　it　in　a　spiral；　lighted　it　at　a　candle；　lit　his　cigar　with
  it；　and　returning　to　the　veranda　held　it　in　his　hand　until　the　last
  ashes　dropped　on　the　floor。　　Then　he　said；　gravely；　to　Ribaud：
  〃You've　treated　me　like　a　white　man；　Frenchy；　and　I　ain't　goin'
  back　on　yerthough　your　ways　ain't　my　waysnohow；　but　I　reckon　in
  this　yer　matter　at　the　shotto　you're　a　little　too　previous！　　For
  though　I　don't　as　a　gin'ral　thing　take　stock　in　ghosts；　I　BELIEVE
  EVERY　WORD　THAT　THEM　FOLK　SAID　UP　THAR。　　And；〃　he　added；　leaning
  his　hand　somewhat　heavily　on　Ribaud's　shoulder；　〃if　you're　the　man
  I　take　you　for；　you'll　believe　it　too！　　And　if　that　chap；　Armand　de
  Fontonelles；　hadn't　hev　picked　up　that　gal　at　that　moment；　he　would
  hev　deserved　to　roast　in　hell　another　three　hundred　years！　　That's
  why　I　believe　her　story。　　So　you'll　let　these　yer　Fontonelles　keep
  their　ghosts　for　all　they're　worth；　and　when　you　next　feel　inclined
  to　talk　about　that　girl's　LOVER；　you'll　think　of　me；　and　shut　your
  head！　　You　hear　me；　Frenchy；　I'm　shoutin'！　　And　don't　you　forget　it！〃
  Nevertheless；　early　the　next　morning；　Monsieur　Ribaud　accompanied
  his　guest　to　the　railway　station；　and　parted　from　him　with　great
  effusion。　　On　his　way　back　an　old…fashioned　carriage　with　a
  postilion　passed　him。　　At　a　sign　from　its　occupant；　the　postilion
  pulled　up；　and　Monsieur　Ribaud；　bowing　to　the　dust；　approached　the
  window；　and　the　pale；　stern　face　of　a　dignified；　white…haired　woman
  of　sixty　that　looked　from　it。
  〃Has　he　gone？〃　said　the　lady。
  〃Assuredly；　madame；　I　was　with　him　at　the　station。〃
  〃And　you　think　no　one　saw　him？〃
  〃No　one；　madame；　but　myself。〃
  〃Andwhat　kind　of　a　man　was　he？〃
  Monsieur　Ribaud　lifted　his　shoulders；　threw　out　his　hands
  despairingly；　yet　with　a　world　of　significance；　and　said：
  〃An　American。〃
  〃Ah！〃
  The　carriage　drove　on　and　entered　the　gates　of　the　chateau。　　And
  Monsieur　Ribaud；　cafe　proprietor　and　Social　Democrat；　straightened
  himself　in　the　dust　and　shook　his　fist　after　it。
  A　NIGHT　ON　THE　DIVIDE
  With　the　lulling　of　the　wind　towards　evening　it　came　on　to　snow
  heavily；　in　straight；　quickly　succeeding　flakes；　dropping　like
  white　lances　from　the　sky。　　This　was　followed　by　the　usual　Sierran
  phenomenon。　　The　deep　gorge；　which；　as　the　sun　went　down；　had
  lapsed　into　darkness；　presently　began　to　reappear；　at　first　the
  vanished　trail　came　back　as　a　vividly　whitening　streak　before　them；
  then　the　larches　and　pines　that　ascended　from　it　like　buttresses
  against　the　hillsides　glimmered　in　ghostly　distinctness；　until　at
  last　the　two　slopes　curved　out　of　the　darkness　as　if　hewn　in
  marble。　　For　the　sudden　storm；　which　extended　scarcely　two　miles；
  had　left　no　trace　upon　the　steep　granite　face　of　the　high　cliffs
  above；　the　snow；　slipping　silently　from　them；　left　them　still
  hidden　in　the　obscurity　of　night。　　In　the　vanished　landscape　the
  gorge　alone　stood　out；　set　in　a　chaos　of　cloud　and　storm　through
  which　the　moonbeams　struggled　ineffectually。
  It　was　this　unexpected　sight　which　burst　upon　the　occupants　of　a
  large　covered　〃station　wagon〃　who　had　chanced　upon　the　lower　end　of
  the　gorge。　　Coming　from　a　still　lower　altitude；　they　had　known
  nothing　of　the　storm；　which　had　momentarily　ceased；　but　had　left　a
  record　of　its　intensity　in　nearly　two　feet　of　snow。　　For　some
  moments　the　horses　floundered　and　struggled　on；　in　what　the
  travelers　believed　to　be　some　old　forgotten　drift　or　avalanche；
  until　the　extent　and　freshness　of　the　fall　became　apparent。　　To　add
  to　their　difficulties；　the　storm　recommenced；　and　not　comprehending
  its　real　character　and　limit；　they　did　not　dare　to　attempt　to
  return　the　way　they　came。　　To　go　on；　however；　was　impossible。　　In
  this　quandary　they　looked　about　them　in　vain　for　some　other　exit
  from　the　gorge。　　The　sides　of　that　gigantic　white　furrow　terminated
  in　darkness。　　Hemmed　in　from　the　world　in　all　directions；　it　might
  have　been　their　tomb。
  But　although　THEY　could　see　nothing　beyond　their　prison　walls；　they
  themselves　were　perfectly　visible　from　the　heights　above　them。　　And
  Jack　Tenbrook；　quartz　miner；　who　was　sinking　a　tunnel　in　the　rocky
  ledge　of　shelf　above　the　gorge；　stepping　out　from　his　cabin　at　ten
  o'clock　to　take　a　look　at　the　weather　before　turning　in；　could
  observe　quite　distinctly　the　outline　of　the　black　wagon；　the
  floundering　horses；　and　the　crouching　figures　by　their　side；
  scarcely　larger　than　pygmies　on　the　white　surface　of　the　snow；　six
  hundred　feet　below　him。　　Jack　had　courage　and　strength；　and　the
  good　humor　that　accompanies　them；　but　he　contented　himself　for　a
  few　moments　with　lazily　observing　the　travelers'　discomfiture。　　He
  had　taken　in　the　situation　with　a　glance；　he　would　have　helped　a
  brother　miner　or　mountaineer；　although　he　knew　that　it　could　only
  have　been　drink　or　bravado　that　brought　HIM　into　the　gorge　in　a
  snowstorm；　but　it　was　very　evident　that　these　were　〃greenhorns；〃　or
  eastern　tourists；　and　it　served　their　stupidity　and　arrogance
  right！　　He　remembered　also　how　he；　having　once　helped　an　Eastern
  visitor　catch　the　mustang　that　had　〃bucked〃　him；　had　been　called
  〃my　man；〃　and　presented　with　five　dollars；　he　recalled　how　he　had
  once　spread　the　humble　resources　of　his　cabin　before　some　straying
  members　of　the　San　Francisco　party　who　were　〃opening〃　the　new
  railroad；　and　heard　the　audible　wonder　of　a　lady　that　a　civilized
  being　could　live　so　〃coarsely〃？　　With　these　recollections　in　his
  mind；　he　managed　to　survey　the　distant　struggling　horses　with　a
  fine　sense　of　humor；　not　unmixed　with　self…righteousness。　　There
  was　no　real　danger　in　the　situation；　it　meant　at　the　worst　a　delay
  and　a　camping　in　the　snow　till　morning；　when　he　would　go　down　to
  their　assistance。　　They　had　a　spacious　traveling　equipage；　and
  were；　no　doubt；　well　supplied　with　furs；　robes；　and　provisions　for
  a　several　hours'　journey；　his　own　pork　barrel　was　quite　empty；　and
  his　blankets　worn。　　He　half　smiled；　extended　his　long　arms　in　a
  decided　yawn；　and　turned　back　into　his　cabin　to　go　to　bed。　　Then　he
  cast　a　final　glance　around　the　interior。　　Everything　was　all　right；
  his　loaded　rifle　stood　against　the　wall；　he　had　just　raked　ashes
  over　the　embers　of　his　fire　to　keep　it　intact　till　morning。　　Only
  one　thing　slightly　troubled　him；　a　grizzly　bear；　two…thirds　grown；
  but　only　half　tamed；　which　had　been　given　to　him　by　a　young　lady
  named　〃Miggles；〃　when　that　charming　and　historic　girl　had　decided
  to　accompany　her　paralytic　lover　to　the　San　Francisco　hospital；　was
  missing　that　evening。　　It　had　been　its　regular　habit　to　come　to　the
  door　every　night　for　some　sweet　biscuit　or　sugar　before　going　to
  its　lair　in　the　underbrush　behind　the　cabin。　　Everybody　knew　it
  along　the　length　and　breadth　of　Hemlock　Ridge；　as　well　as　the