I had one glimpse of his face as he leaned forward, and there was a look in it which made me shudder, and turn away. His was no idle threat, and whether the man truly loved me or not, his hatred of De Artigny was sufficient for any cruelty.

I realized the danger, the necessity for compromise, and yet for the moment I lacked power to speak, to question, fearful lest his demands would be greater than I could grant. I had no thought of what I saw, and still that which my eyes rested upon remains pictured on my brain, the sparkle of sun on the water, the distant green of the shore, the soldiers huddled in the canoe, the dark shining bodies of the Indians ceaselessly plying the paddles, and beyond us, to the left, another canoe, cleaving the water swiftly, with Pere Allouez' face turned toward us, as though he sought to guess our conversation. I was aroused by the grip of Cassion's hand.

"Well, my beauty," he said harshly, "haven't I waited long enough to learn if it is war or peace between us?"

I laughed, yet I doubt if he gained any comfort from the expression of the eyes which met his.

"Why I choose peace, of course, Monsieur," I answered, assuming a carelessness I was far from feeling. "Am I not your wife? Surely you remind me of it often enough, so I am not likely to forget; but I resent the insult of your words, nor will you ever win favor from me by such methods. I have been friendly with Sieur de Artigny, it is true, but there is nothing more between us. Indeed no word has passed my lips in his presence I would not be willing for you to hear. So there is no cause for you to spare him on my account, or rest his fate on any action of mine."

"You will have naught to do with the fellow?"

"There would be small chance if I wished, Monsieur; and do you suppose I would seek companionship with one who had killed my uncle?"

"'Twould scarce seem so, yet I know not what you believe."

"Nor do I myself; yet the evidence is all against the man thus far. I confess I should like to hear his defense, but I make you this pledge in all honor--I will have no word with him, on condition that you file no charges until we arrive at Fort St. Louis."

"Ah!" suspiciously, "you think he has friends there to hold him innocent."

"Why should I, Monsieur? Indeed, why should I care but to have justice done? I do not wish his blood on your hands, or to imagine that he is condemned because of his friendship for me rather than any other crime. I know not what friends the man has at the Rock on the Illinois. He was of La Salle's party, and they are no longer in control. La Barre said that De Baugis commanded that post, and for all I know De Tonty and all his men may have departed."

"'Tis not altogether true, and for that reason we are ordered to join the company. De Baugis has the right of it under commission from La Barre, but does not possess sufficient soldiers to exercise authority.

La Salle's men remain loyal to De Tonty, and the Indian tribes look to him for leadership. _Mon Dieu_! it was reported in Quebec that twelve thousand savages were living about the fort--ay! and De Artigny said he doubted it not, for the meadows were covered with tepees--so De Baugis has small chance to rule until he has force behind him. They say this De Tonty is of a fighting breed--the savages call him the man with the iron hand--and so the two rule between them, the one for La Barre, and the other for La Salle, and we go to give the Governor's man more power."

"You have sufficient force?"

"Unless the Indians become hostile; besides there is to be an overland party later to join us in the spring, and Sieur de la Durantaye, of the regiment of Carignan-Salliers is at the Chicago portage. This I learned at St. Ignace."

"Then it would seem to me, Monsieur, that you could safely wait the trial of De Artigny until our arrival at the fort. If he does not feel himself suspected, he will make no effort to escape, and I give you the pledge you ask."

It was not altogether graciously that he agreed to this, yet the man could not refuse, and I was glad enough to escape thus easily, for it was my fear that he might insist on my yielding much more to preserve De Artigny from immediate condemnation and death. The fellow had the power, and the inclination, and what good fortune saved me, I can never know. I think he felt a certain fear of me, a doubt of how far he might presume on my good nature.

Certainly I gave him small encouragement to venture further, and yet had he done so I would have been at my wit's end. Twice the words were upon his lips--a demand that I yield to his mastery--but he must have read in my eyes a defiance he feared to front, for they were not uttered. 'Twas that he might have this very talk that he had found me place alone in his canoe, and I would have respected him more had he dared to carry out his desire. The coward in the man was too apparent, and yet that very cowardice was proof of treachery. What he hesitated to claim boldly he would attain otherwise if he could. I could place no confidence in his word, nor reliance upon his honor.

However nothing occurred to give Cassion opportunity, nor to tempt me to violate my own pledge. We proceeded steadily upon our course, aided by fair weather, and quiet waters for several days. So peaceful were our surroundings that my awe and fear of the vast lake on which we floated passed away, and I began to appreciate its beauty, and love those changing vistas, which opened constantly to our advance.

We followed the coast line, seldom venturing beyond sight of land, except as we cut across from point to point; and fair as the wooded shore appeared, its loneliness, and the desolation of the great waters began, at last, to affect our spirits. The men no longer sang at their work, and I could see the depression in their eyes as they stared about across ceaseless waves to the dim horizon.

Day after day it was the same dull monotony, crouched in the narrow canoe, watching the movements of the paddlers, and staring about at endless sea and sky, with distant glimpse of wilderness. We lost interest in conversation, in each other, and I lay for hours with eyes closed to the glare of the sun, feeling no desire save to be left alone. Yet there were scenes of surpassing beauty unrolled before us at sunrise and sunset, and when the great silvery moon reflected its glory in the water.

Had companionship been congenial no doubt every league of that journey would have proven a joy to be long remembered, but with Cassion beside me, ever seeking some excuse to make me conscious of his purpose, I found silence to be my most effective weapon of defense. Twice I got away in Pere Allouez' canoe, and found pleasure in conversing, although I had no confidence in the priest, and knew well that my absence would anger Cassion.

Our camps occurred wherever night overtook us and we found good landing place. Occasionally we went ashore earlier, and the Indians hunted for wild game, usually with success. In all these days and nights I had no glimpse of De Artigny, nor of his crew. It was not possible for me to question Cassion, for to do so would have aroused his jealous suspicion; but, as he never once referred to their continued absence, I became convinced that it was his orders which kept them ahead. No doubt it was best, as the men soon forgot the tragedy of Hugo Chevet's death, and after the first day I do not recall hearing the murder discussed.

Such deeds were not uncommon, and Chevet had made no friends to cherish his memory. If others suspected De Artigny they felt little resentment or desire to punish him--and doubtless the men had quarreled, and the fatal knife thrust been delivered in fair fight.

The result interested them only slightly, and none regretted the loss of the man killed.

We made no entrance into Green Bay, for there was nothing there but a newly established mission station, and perhaps a hunter's camp, scarcely worth our wasting two days in seeking. Besides the night we made camp at a spot marked on the map as Point de Tour, we found waiting us there the advance canoe, and both De Artigny and the chief counseled that our course be south across the mouth of the bay. I sat in my tent and watched them discuss the matter in the red glow of a fire, but this was my only glimpse of De Artigny, until he led the way the next morning.

Our voyage that day was a long one, and we were often beyond view of land, although we skirted several islands. The lake was stirred by a gentle breeze, yet not enough to delay our passage, and the sky above was cloudless. The Indian chief took the steering paddle in one of our boats, relieving Pere Allouez, and De Artigny guided us, his canoe a mere black speck ahead. It was already dark when we finally attained the rocky shore of Port de Morts.

When dawn came De Artigny and his crew had departed by order of Cassion, but the chief remained to take charge of the third canoe. The indifference the younger man had shown to my presence hurt me strangely--he had made no effort to approach or address me; indeed, so far as I was aware, had not so much as glanced in my direction. Did he still resent my words, or was it his consciousness of guilt, which held him thus aloof?

Not for a moment would I believe him wholly uninterested. There had been that in his eyes I should never forget, and so I persuaded myself that he thus avoided me because he feared to anger Cassion. This was not at all in accord with his nature as I understood it, yet the explanation gave me a certain content, and I could find no better.

Thus we resumed our journey southward along the shore, but with clouded skies overhead, and the water about us dull and gray.

CHAPTER XVII

THE BREAK OF STORM

We had no more pleasant weather for days, the skies being overcast and the wind damp and chill. It did not rain, nor were the waves dangerous, although choppy enough to make paddling tiresome and difficult.

A mist obscured the view, and compelled us to cling close to the shore so as to prevent becoming lost in the smother, and as we dare not venture to strike out boldly from point to point, we lost much time in creeping along the curves.

The canoes kept closer together, never venturing to become separated, and the men stationed on watch in the bows continually called to each other across the tossing waters in guidance. Even De Artigny kept within sight, and made camp with us at night, although he made no effort to seek me, nor did I once detect that he even glanced in my direction. The studied indifference of the man puzzled me more than it angered, but I believed it was his consciousness of guilt, rather than any dislike which caused his avoidance. In a way I rejoiced at his following this course, as I felt bound by my pledge to Cassion, and had no desire to further arouse the jealousy of the latter, yet I remained a woman, and consequently felt a measure of regret at being thus neglected and ignored.

However I had my reward, as this state of affairs was plainly enough to Monsieur Cassion's liking, for his humor changed for the better, in spite of our slow progress, and I was pleased to note that his watchfulness over my movements while ashore noticeably relaxed. Once he ventured to speak a bold word or two, inspired possibly by my effort to appear more friendly, but I gave him small opportunity to become offensive, for the raw, disagreeable atmosphere furnished me with sufficient excuse to snuggle down beneath blankets, and thus ignore his presence.

I passed most of those days thus hidden from sight, only occasionally lifting my head to peer out at the gray, desolate sea, or watch the dim, mist-shrouded coast line. It was all of a color--a gloomy, dismal scene, the continuance of which left me homesick and spiritless. Never have I felt more hopeless and alone. It seemed useless to keep up the struggle; with every league we penetrated deeper into the desolate wilderness, and now I retained not even one friend on whom I could rely.

As Cassion evidenced his sense of victory--as I read it in his laughing words, and the bold glance of his eyes--there came to me a knowledge of defeat, which seemed to rob me of all strength and purpose. I was not ready to yield yet; the man only angered me, and yet I began dimly to comprehend that the end was inevitable--my courage was oozing away, and somewhere in this lonely, friendless wilderness the moment I dreaded would come, and I would have no power to resist. More than once in my solitude, hidden beneath the blankets, I wiped tears from my eyes as I sensed the truth; yet he never knew, nor did I mean he should.

I had no knowledge of the date, nor a very clear conception of where we were, although it must have been either the fourth or fifth day since we left Port du Morts. The night before, we had camped at the mouth of a small stream, the surrounding forest growing down close to the shore, and so thick as to be almost impenetrable. The men had set up my tent so close to the water the waves broke scarcely a foot away, and the fire about which the others clustered for warmth was but a few yards distant.

Wrapped in my blankets I saw De Artigny emerge from the darkness, and approach Cassion, who drew a map from his belt pocket, and spread it open on the ground in the glare of the fire. The two men bent over it, tracing the lines with finger tips, evidently determining their course for the morrow. Then De Artigny made a few notes on a scrap of paper, arose to his feet, and disappeared.

They had scarcely exchanged a word, and the feeling of enmity between them was apparent. Cassion sat quiet, the map still open, and stared after the younger man until he vanished in the darkness. The look upon his face was not a pleasant one.

Impelled by a sudden impulse I arose to my feet, the blanket still draped about my shoulders, and crossed the open space to the fire.

Cassion, hearing the sound of my approach, glanced around, his frown changing instantly into a smile.

"Ah, quite an adventure this," he said, adopting a tone of pleasantry.

"The first time you have left your tent, Madame?"

"The first time I have felt desire to do so," I retorted. "I feel curiosity to examine your map."

"And waited until I was alone; I appreciate the compliment," and he removed his hat in mock gallantry. "There was a time when you would have come earlier."

"Your sarcasm is quite uncalled for. You have my pledge relative to the Sieur de Artigny, Monsieur, which suffices. If you do not care to give me glimpse of your map, I will retire again."

"_Pouf_! do not be so easily pricked, I spoke in jest. Ay, look at the paper, but the tracing is so poor 'tis no better than a guess where we are. Sit you down, Madame, so the fire gives light, and I will show you our position the best I can."

"Did not De Artigny know?"