"'Twas brought for my own use," he confessed, encouraged by my graciousness, "for as you know, I had no previous warning that you were to be of our party. Please step within."

I did so, yet turned instantly to prevent his following me. Already I had determined on my course of action, and now the time had come for me to speak him clearly; yet now that I had definite purpose in view it was no part of my game to anger the man.

"Monsieur," I said soberly. "I must beg your mercy. I am but a girl, and alone. It is true I am your wife by law, but the change has come so suddenly that I am yet dazed. Surely you cannot wish to take advantage, or make claim upon me, until I can bid you welcome. I appeal to you as a gentleman."

He stared into my face, scarcely comprehending all my meaning.

"You would bar me without? You forbid me entrance?"

"Would you seek to enter against my wish?"

"But you are my wife; that you will not deny! What will be said, thought, if I seek rest elsewhere?"

"Monsieur, save for Hugo Chevet, none in this company know the story of that marriage, or why I am here. What I ask brings no stain upon you. 'Tis not that I so dislike you, Monsieur, but I am the daughter of Pierre la Chesnayne, and 'tis not in my blood to yield to force. It will be best to yield me respect and consideration."

"You threatened me yonder--before La Barre."

"I spoke wildly, in anger. That passion has passed--now I appeal to your manhood."

He glanced about, to assure himself we were alone.

"You are a sly wench," he said, laughing unpleasantly, "but it may be best that I give you your own way for this once. There is time enough in which to teach you my power. And so you shut the tent to me, fair lady, in spite of your pledge to Holy Church. Ah, well! there are nights a plenty between here and St. Ignace, and you will become lonely enough in the wilderness to welcome me. One kiss, and I leave you."

"No, Monsieur."

His eyes were ugly.

"You refuse that! _Mon Dieu!_ Do you think I play? I will have the kiss--or more."

Furious as the man was I felt no fear of him, merely an intense disgust that his hands should touch me, an indignation that he should offer me such insult. He must have read all this in my eyes, for he made but the one move, and I flung his hand aside as easily as though it had been that of a child. I was angry, so that my lips trembled, and my face grew white, yet it was not the anger that stormed.

"Enough, Monsieur--go!" I said, and pointed to where the fires reddened the darkness. "Do not dare speak to me again this night."

An instant he hesitated, trying to muster courage, but the bully in him failed, and with an oath, he turned away, and vanished. It was nearly dark then, and I sat down on a blanket at the entrance, and waited, watching the figures between me and the river. I did not think he would come again, but I did not know; it would be safer if I could have word with Chevet. A soldier brought me food, and when he returned for the tins I made him promise to seek my uncle, and send him to me.

CHAPTER IX

THE FLAMES OF JEALOUSY

My only faith in Hugo Chevet rested in his natural resentment of Cassion's treachery relative to my father's fortune. He would feel that he had been cheated, deceived, deprived of his rightful share of the spoils.

The man cared nothing for me, as had already been plainly demonstrated, yet, but for this conspiracy of La Barre and his Commissaire, it would have been his privilege to have handled whatever property Pierre la Chesnayne left at time of his death. He would have been the legal guardian of an heiress, instead of the provider for an unwelcomed child of poverty.

He had been tricked into marrying me to Cassion, feeling that he had thus rid himself of an incumbrance, and at the same time gained a friend and ally at court, and now discovered that by that act he had alienated himself from all chance of ever controlling my inheritance.

The knowledge that he had thus been outwitted would rankle in the man's brain, and he was one to seek revenge. It was actuated by this thought that I had sent for him, feeling that perhaps at last we had a common cause.

Whether, or not, Cassion would take my dismissal as final I could not feel assured. No doubt he would believe my decision the outburst of a woman's mood, which he had best honor, but in full faith that a few days would bring to me a change of mind. The man was too pronounced an egotist to ever confess that he could fail in winning the heart of any girl whom he condescended to honor, and the very injury which my repulse had given to his pride would tend to increase his desire to possess me.

However little he had cared before in reality, now his interest would be aroused, and I would seem to him worthy of conquest. He would never stop after what had occurred between us until he had exhausted every power he possessed. Yet I saw nothing more of him that night, although I sat just within the flap of the tent watching the camp between me and the river. Shadowing figures glided about, revealed dimly by the fires, but none of these did I recognize as the Commissaire, nor did I hear his voice.

I had been alone for an hour, already convinced that the soldier had failed to deliver my message, when my Uncle Chevet finally emerged from the shadows, and announced his presence. He appeared a huge, shapeless figure, his very massiveness yielding me a feeling of protection, and I arose, and joined him. His greeting proved the unhappiness of his mind.

"So you sent for me--why? What has happened between you and Cassion?"

"No more than occurred between us yonder in Quebec, when I informed him that I was his wife in name only," I answered quietly. "Do you blame me now that you understand his purpose in this marriage?"

"But I don't understand. You have but aroused my suspicion. Tell me all, and if the man is a villain he shall make answer to me."

"Ay, if you imagine you have been outplayed in the game, although it is little enough you would care otherwise. Let there be no misunderstanding between us, Monsieur. You sold me to Francois Cassion because you expected to profit through his influence with La Barre. Now you learn otherwise, and the discovery has angered you.

For the time being you are on my side--but for how long?"

He stared at me, his slow wits scarcely translating my words.

Seemingly the man had but one idea in his thick head.

"How know you the truth of all you have said?" he asked. "Where learned you of this wealth?"

"By overhearing conversation while hidden behind the curtain in La Barre's office. He spoke freely with his aide, and later with Cassion.

It was my discovery there which led to the forced marriage, and our being sent with this expedition."

"You heard alone?"

"So they thought, and naturally believed marriage would prevent my ever bearing witness against them. But I was not alone."

"_Mon Dieu!_ Another heard?"

"Yes, the Sieur de Artigny."

Chevet grasped my arm, and in the glare of the fire I could see his excitement pictured in his face.

"Who? That lad? You were in hiding there together? And did he realize what was said?"

"That I do not know," I answered, "for we have exchanged no word since. When my presence was discovered, De Artigny escaped unseen through the open window. I need to meet him again that these matters may be explained, and that I may learn just what he overheard. It was to enlist your aid that I sent for you."

"To bring the lad here?"

"No; that could not be done without arousing the suspicion of Cassion.

The two are already on the verge of quarrel. You must find some way of drawing the Commissaire aside--not tonight, for there is plenty of time before us, and I am sure we are being watched now--and that will afford me opportunity."

"But why may I not speak him?"

"You!" I laughed. "He would be likely to talk with you. A sweet message you sent him in Quebec."

"I was drunk, and Cassion asked it of me."

"I thought as much; the coward makes you pull his chestnuts from the fire. Do you give me the pledge?"