As we approached more closely, De Tonty walking between De Artigny and myself, a soldier ran up the steps, and made some report. Instantly the group broke, and two men strode past the fire, and met us. One was a tall, imposing figure in dragoon uniform, a sword at his thigh, his face full bearded; the other whom I recognized instantly with a swift intake of breath, was Monsieur Cassion. He was a stride in advance, his eyes searching me out in the dim light, his face flushed from excitement.

"_Mon Dieu_! what is this I hear," he exclaimed, staring at the three of us as though doubting the evidence of his own eyes. "My wife alive?

Ay, by my faith, it is indeed Adele." He grasped me by the arm, but even at that instant his glance fell upon De Artigny, and his manner changed.

"Saint Anne! and what means this! So 'tis with this rogue you have been wandering the wilderness!"

He tugged at his sword, but the dragoon caught his arm.

"Nay, wait, Cassion. 'Twill be best to learn the truth before resorting to blows. Perchance Monsieur Tonty can explain clearly what has happened."

"It is explained already," answered the Italian, and he took a step forward as though to protect us. "These two, with a soldier of M. de la Durantaye, endeavored to reach the fort, and were attacked by Iroquois. We dispatched men to their rescue, and have all now safe within the palisades. What more would you learn, Messieurs?"

Cassion pressed forward, and fronted him, angered beyond control.

"We know all that," he roared savagely. "But I would learn why they hid themselves from me. Ay, Madame, but I will make you talk when once we are alone! But now I denounce this man as the murderer of Hugo Chevet, and order him under arrest. Here, lads, seize the fellow."

CHAPTER XXVI

IN DE BAUGIS' QUARTERS

De Tonty never gave way an inch, as a dozen soldiers advanced at Cassion's order.

"Wait men!" he said sternly. "'Tis no time, with Iroquois about, to start a quarrel, yet if a hand be laid on this lad here in anger, we, who are of La Salle's Company, will protect him with our lives--"

"You defend a murderer?"

"No; a comrade. Listen to me, Cassion, and you De Baugis. I have held quiet to your dictation, but no injustice shall be done to comrade of mine save by force of arms. I know naught of your quarrel, or your charges of crime against De Artigny, but the lad is going to have fair play. He is no _courier du bois_ to be killed for your vengeance, but an officer under Sieur de la Salle, entitled to trial and judgment."

"He was my guide; I have authority."

"Not now, Monsieur. 'Tis true he served you, and was your _engage_ on the voyage hither. But even in that service, he obeyed the orders of La Salle. Now, within these palisades, he is an officer of this garrison, and subject only to me."

De Baugis spoke, his voice cold, contemptuous.

"You refuse obedience to the Governor of New France?"

"No, Monsieur; I am under orders to obey. There will be no trouble between us if you are just to my men. La Barre is not here to decide this, but I am." He put his hand on De Artigny's shoulder. "Monsieur Cassion charges this man with murder. He is an officer of my command, and I arrest him. He shall be protected, and given a fair trial. What more can you ask?"

"You will protect him! help him to escape, rather!" burst out Cassion.

"That is the scheme, De Baugis."

"Your words are insult, Monsieur, and I bear no more. If you seek quarrel, you shall have it. I am your equal, Monsieur, and my commission comes from the King. Ah, M. de la Durantaye, what say you of this matter?"

A man, broad shouldered, in the dress of a woodsman, elbowed his way through the throng of soldiers. He had a strong, good-humored face.

"In faith, I heard little of the controversy, yet 'tis like I know the gist of it, as I have just conversed with a wounded soldier of mine, Barbeau, who repeated the story as he understood it. My hand to you, Sieur de Artigny, and it seems to me, Messieurs, that De Tonty hath the right of it."

"You take his side against us who hath the authority of the Governor?"

"Pah! that is not the issue. Tis merely a question of justice to this lad here. I stand for fair trial with Henri de Tonty, and will back my judgment with my sword."

They stood eye to eye, the four of them, and the group of soldiers seemed to divide, each company drawing together. Cassion growled some vague threat, but De Baugis took another course, gripping his companion by the arm.

"No, Francois, 'tis not worth the danger," he expostulated. "There will be no crossing of steel. Monsieur Cassion, no doubt, hath reason to be angered--but not I. The man shall have his trial, and we will learn the right and wrong of all this presently. Monsieur Tonty, the prisoner is left in your charge. Fall back men--to your barracks.

Madame, permit me to offer you my escort."

"To where, Monsieur?"

"To the only quarters fitted for your reception," he said gallantly, "those I have occupied since arrival here."

"You vacate them for me?"

"With the utmost pleasure," bowing gallantly. "I beg of you their acceptance; your husband has been my guest, and will join with me in exile."

I glanced at De Tonty, who yet stood with hand on De Artigny's shoulder, a little cordon of his own men gathered closely about them.

My eyes encountered those of the younger officer. As I turned away I found myself confronted by Cassion. The very sight of his face brought me instant decision, and I spoke my acceptance before he could utter the words trembling on his lips.

"I will use your quarters gladly, Captain de Baugis," I said quietly, "but will ask to be left there undisturbed."

"Most assuredly, Madame--my servant will accompany you."

"Then good-night, Messieurs," I faced Cassion, meeting his eyes frankly. "I am greatly wearied, and would rest; tomorrow I will speak with you, Monsieur. Permit me to pass."

He stood aside, unable to affront me, although the anger in his face, was evidence enough of brewing trouble. No doubt he had boasted of me to De Baugis, and felt no desire now to have our true relations exposed thus publicly. I passed him, glancing at none of the others, and followed the soldier across the beaten parade. A moment later I was safely hidden within a two-roomed cabin.

Everything within had an appearance of neatness, almost as if a woman had arranged its furnishings. I glanced about in pleased surprise, as the soldier placed fresh fuel on the cheerful fire blazing in the fireplace, and drew closer the drapery over the single window.

"Madame will find it comfortable?" he said, pausing at the door.

"Quite so," I answered. "One could scarcely anticipate so delightful a spot in this Indian land."

"Monsieur de Baugis has the privilege of Sieur de la Salle's quarters," he answered, eager to explain, "and besides brought with him many comforts of his own. But for the Iroquois we would be quite happy."

"They have proven dangerous?"

"Not to us within the fort. A few white men were surprised without and killed, but, except for shortness of provisions and powder and ball, we are safe enough here. Tomorrow you will see how impregnable is the Rock from savage attack."

"I have heard there are a thousand Iroquois in the valley."

"Ay, and possibly more, and we are but a handful in defense, yet their only approach is along that path you came tonight. The cowardly Illini fled down the river; had they remained here we would have driven the vermin out before this, for 'tis said they fight well with white leaders."

I made no reply, and the man disappeared into the darkness, closing the heavy door behind him, and leaving me alone. I made it secure with an oaken bar, and sank down before the fire on a great shaggy bear skin. I was alone at last, safe from immediate danger, able to think of the strange conditions surrounding me, and plan for the future. The seriousness of the situation I realized clearly, and also the fact that all depended on my action--even the life of Rene de Artigny.

I sat staring into the fire, no longer aware of fatigue, or feeling any sense of sleepiness. The thick log walls of the cabin shut out all noise; I was conscious of a sense of security, of protection, and yet comprehended clearly what the new day would bring. I should have to face Cassion, and in what spirit could I meet him best? Thus far I had been fortunate in escaping his denunciation, but I realized the reason which had compelled his silence--pride, the fear of ridicule, had sealed his lips. I was legally his wife, given to him by Holy Church, yet for weeks, months, during all our long wilderness journey, I had held aloof from him, mocking his efforts, and making light of his endeavors. It had been maddening, no doubt, and rendered worse by his growing jealousy of De Artigny.