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Roe, Vingie E. (Vingie Eve)

"The Maid of the Whispering Hills"


He looked long with hand to eye, and presently turned quietly.
"Nor'westers, I think, Ma'amselle. They come from Fort William to the
Wilderness."
Fort William!
Back along the trail went memory with mention of the post on the
distant shore of Lake Superior. How oft had she peeped with fascinated
eyes from behind her father's forge at sturdy men in buckskins who
spoke with the blacksmith about the wonders of the country of the Red
River, and they had come from Fort William. She saw again the bustle
and activity of Grand Portage, the comfortable house of the Baptistes.
Once more she felt the old yearning for the unknown.
And this was it,--this gleaming stretch of inland sea, one man who
stood by her and another who betrayed her with a kiss, yet who drew her
after him as the helpless leaf, fallen to the stream, is whirled into
the white destruction of the rapids.
Aye, verily, this was the unknown.
She was looking down the lake with the sun on her uncovered head, on
the soft whiteness of the doeskin garment, and to young Dupre she had
never seemed so near the divine, so far and unattainable.
"Ma'amselle," he said presently, "if these newcomers speak us, heed you
not what I may say.


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