"His suspicions!" the Sieur laughed softly. "So that then is the trouble? It is to keep us apart that he bids me make separate camp each night; and assigns me to every post of peril. I feel the honor, Mademoiselle, yet why am I especially singled out for so great a distinction?"

"He suspects us of being friends. He knew I conferred with you at the convent, and even believes that you were with me hidden behind the curtain in the Governor's office."

"Yet if all that be true," he questioned, his voice evidencing his surprise. "Why should our friendship arouse his antagonism to such an extent? I cannot understand what crime I have committed, Mademoiselle.

It is all mystery, even why you should be here with us on this long journey? Surely you had no such thought when we parted last?"

"You do not know what has occurred?" I asked, in astonishment. "No one has told you?"

"Told me! How? I have scarcely held speech with anyone but the Algonquin chief since we took to the water. Cassion has but given orders, and Chevet is mum as an oyster. I endeavored to find you in Montreal, but you were safely locked behind gray walls. That something was wrong I felt convinced, yet what it might be no one would tell me.

I tried questioning the _pere_, but he only shook his head, and left me unanswered. Tell me then, Mademoiselle, by what right does this Cassion hold you as a captive?"

My lips trembled, and my eyes fell, yet I must answer.

"He is my husband, Monsieur."

I caught glimpse of his face, picturing surprise, incredulity. He drew a sharp breath, and I noted his hand close tightly on the hilt of his knife.

"Your husband! that cur! Surely you do not jest?"

"Would that I did," I exclaimed, losing all control in sudden wave of anger. "No, Monsieur, it is true; but listen. I supposed you knew; that you had been told. It is hard for me to explain, yet I must make it all plain for you to understand. I do not love the man, his very presence maddens me, nor has the creature dared as yet to lay hand on my person. See; I carry this," and I drew the pistol from my dress, and held it in my hand. "Chevet loaned it me, and Cassion knows I would kill him if he ventured insult. Yet that serves me little, for my opposition only renders the man more determined. At Quebec I was but a plaything, but now he holds me worth the winning."

"But why did you marry him, then?"

"I am coming to that, Monsieur. You overheard what was said in La Barre's office about--about my father's property?"

"Ay! although it was not all clear to me. Captain la Chesnayne had lost his estates, confiscated by the Crown; yet before his death these had been restored to him by the King."

"Yes, but the report of the restoration had never been made to his rightful heirs. The papers had been held back and concealed, while those in authority planned how to retain possession. Cassion was chosen as an instrument, and sought my hand in marriage."

De Artigny smothered an oath, his eyes darkening with anger.

"It was to further this scheme that he induced Chevet to announce our engagement, and drive me to consent. Once my husband the fortune was securely in his hands--indeed, I need never know its existence; nor would Chevet suspicion the trick. Yet, as I see it now, La Barre had no great faith in the man he had chosen, and thought best to test him first by this journey to St. Louis. If he proved himself, then on his return, he was to have the reward of official position and wealth. I was but a pawn in the game, a plaything for their pleasure."

My voice broke, and I could scarcely see through the tears in my eyes, but I felt his strong hand close over mine, the warm pressure an unspoken pledge.

"The dogs! and then what happened?"

"You know, already. I was discovered behind the curtain, when you escaped through the open window. They were not certain I was not alone there, as I claimed, but compelled me to confess what I had overheard.

La Barre was quick to grasp the danger of discovery, and the only method by which my lips could be closed. By threat he compelled me to marry Francois Cassion, and accompany him on this journey into the wilderness."

"The ceremony was performed by a priest?"

"By Pere le Guard, the Governor's chaplain."

"And Hugo Chevet, your uncle? Did he remain silent? make no protest?"

I gave a gesture of despair.

"He! Never did he even conceive what occurred, until I told him later on the river. Even now I doubt if his sluggish brain has grasped the truth. To him the alliance was an honor, an opening to possible wealth in the fur trade through Cassion's influence with La Barre. He could perceive nothing else except his good luck in thus ridding himself of the care of a poor niece who had been a sorry burden."

"But you explained to him?"

"I tried to, but only to regret the effort. Giant as he is physically, his intellect is that of a big boy. All he can conceive of is revenge--a desire to crush with his hands. He hates Cassion, because the man has robbed him of the use of my father's money; but for my position he cares nothing. To his mind the wrong has all been done to him, and I fear he will brood over it until he seeks revenge. If he does he will ruin everything."

De Artigny stood silent, evidently in thought, endeavoring to grasp the threads of my tale.

"How did you attain the summit of this bluff?" he questioned at last.

"Yonder; there is a deer trail leading down."

"And you fear Cassion may follow?"

"He will likely become suspicious if I am long absent, and either seek me himself, or send one of his men. This is the first moment of freedom I have experienced since we left Quebec. I hardly know how to behave myself."

"And we must guard it from being the last," he exclaimed, a note of determination, and leadership in his voice. "There are questions I must ask, so that we may work together in harmony, but Cassion can never be allowed to suspect that we have communication. Let us go forward to the end of the trail where you came up; from there we can keep watch below."

He still grasped my hand, and I had no thought of withdrawing it. To me he was a friend, loyal, trustworthy, the one alone to whom I could confide. Together we clambered over the rough rocks to where the narrow cleft led downward.

CHAPTER XII

ON THE SUMMIT OF THE BLUFF

Securely screened from observation by the low growing bushes clinging to the edge of the bluff, and yet with a clear view of the cleft in the rocks half way to the river, De Artigny found me a seat on a hummock of grass, but remained standing himself. The sun was sinking low, warning us that our time was short, for with the first coming of twilight I would certainly be sought, if I failed to return to the lower camp.

For a moment he did not break the silence, and I glanced up, wondering why he should hesitate. His face was grave, no longer appearing, as was its wont, young and careless, but marked by thought and perplexity. Something strong and earnest in the character of the man, brought forth by this emergency, seemed to stamp itself on his features. If I had ever before imagined him to be a mere reckless youth, with that moment such conception vanished, and I knew I was to rely on the experience of a man--a man trained in a rough wilderness school, yet with mind and heart fitted to meet any emergency. The knowledge brought me boldness.

"You would question me, Monsieur," I asked doubtfully. "It was for that you led me here?"

"Yes," instantly aroused by my voice, but with eyes still scanning the trail. "And there is no time to waste, if I am to do my part intelligently. You must return below before the sun disappears, or Monsieur Cassion might suspect you had lost your way. You have sought me for assistance, counsel perhaps, but this state of affairs has so taken me by surprise that I do not think clearly. You have a plan?"

"Scarcely that, Monsieur. I would ascertain the truth, and my only means of doing so is through a confession by Francois Cassion."

"And he is too cold-blooded a villain to ever acknowledge guilt. To my mind the methods of Chevet would be most likely to bring result."

"But not to mine, Monsieur," I interrupted earnestly. "The man is not so cold-blooded as you imagine. Arrogant he is, and conceited, deeming himself admired, and envied by all, especially my sex. He has even dared boast to me of his victims. But therein lies his very weakness; I would make him love me."

He turned now, and looked searchingly into my face, no glimpse of a smile in the gray eyes.

"Pardon; I do not understand," he said gravely. "You seek his love?"

I felt his manner a rebuke, a questioning of my honesty, and swift indignation brought the answering words to my lips.

"And why not pray! Must I not defend myself--and what other weapons are at hand? Do I owe him kindness; or tender consideration? The man married me as he would buy a slave."

"You may be justified," he admitted regretfully. "Yet how is this to be done?"