"So I hear. Doubtless you could convict me as easily."

"What do you mean?"

"Only that your whole case is a tissue of lies."

"Pah! you have her word for it, no doubt. But you will all sing a different song presently. Ay, and it will be her testimony which will hang the villain."

"What is this you say, Monsieur--my testimony?"

"Just that--the tale of what you saw in the Mission garden at St.

Ignace. _Sacre_, that shot hits, does it! You thought me asleep, and with no knowledge of your escapade, but I had other eyes open that night, my lady. Now will you confess the truth?"

"I shall conceal nothing, Monsieur."

"'Twill be best that you make no attempt," he sneered, his old braggart spirit reasserting itself as De Tonty kept silent. "I have guard here to escort you to the Commandant's office."

"You do me honor." I turned to De Tonty. "Shall I go, Monsieur?"

"I think it best, Madame," he replied soberly, his dark eyes contemptuously surveying Cassion. "To refuse would only strengthen the case against the prisoner. M. Cassion will not, I am sure, deny me the privilege of accompanying you. Permit me to offer my arm."

I did not glance toward Cassion, but felt no doubt as to the look on his face; yet he would think twice before laying hand on this stern soldier who had offered me protection. The guard at the door fell aside promptly, and permitted us to pass. Some order was spoken, in a low tone, and they fell in behind with rifles at trail. Once in the open I became, for the first time, aware of irregular rifle firing, and observed in surprise, men posted upon a narrow staging along the side of the log stockade.

"Is the fort being attacked?" I asked.

"There has been firing for some days," he answered, "but no real attack. The savages merely hide yonder amid the rocks and woods, and strive to keep us from venturing down the trail. Twice we have made sortie, and driven them away, but 'tis a useless waste of fighting."

He called to a man posted above the gate. "How is it this morning, Jules?"

The soldier glanced about cautiously, keeping his head below cover.

"Thick as flies out there, Monsieur," he answered, "and with a marksman or two among them. Not ten minutes since Bowain got a ball in his head."

"And no orders to clear the devils out?"

"No, Monsieur--only to watch that they do not form for a rush."

The Commandant's office was built against the last stockade--a log hut no more pretentious than the others. A sentry stood at each side of the closed door, but De Tonty ignored them, and ushered me into the room. It was not large, and was already well filled, a table littered with papers occupying the central space, De Baugis and De la Durantaye seated beside it, while numerous other figures were standing pressed against the walls. I recognized the familiar faces of several of our party, but before I recovered from my first embarrassment De Baugis arose, and with much politeness offered me a chair.

De Tonty remained beside me, his hand resting on my chair back, as he coolly surveyed the scene. Cassion pushed past, and occupied a vacant chair, between the other officers, laying his sword on the table. My eyes swept about the circle of faces seeking De Artigny, but he was not present. But for a slight shuffling of feet, the silence was oppressive. Cassion's unpleasant voice broke the stillness.

"M. de Tonty, there is a chair yonder reserved for your use."

"I prefer remaining beside Madame Cassion," he answered calmly. "It would seem she has few friends in this company."

"We are all her friends," broke in De Baugis, his face flushing, "but we are here to do justice, and avenge a foul crime. 'Tis told us that madame possesses certain knowledge which has not been revealed. Other witnesses have testified, and we would now listen to her word.

Sergeant of the guard, bring in the prisoner."

He entered by way of the rear door, manacled, and with an armed soldier on either side. Coatless and bareheaded, he stood erect in the place assigned him, and as his eyes swept the faces, his stern look changed to a smile as his glance met mine. My eyes were still upon him, seeking eagerly for some message of guidance, when Cassion spoke.

"M. de Baugis will question the witness."

"The court will pardon me," said De Artigny. "The witness to be heard is Madame?"

"Certainly; what means your interruption?"

"To spare the lady unnecessary embarrassment. She is my friend, and, no doubt, may find it difficult to testify against me. I merely venture to ask her to give this court the exact truth."

"Your words are impertinent."

"No, M. de Baugis," I broke in, understanding all that was meant.

"Sieur de Artigny has spoken in kindness, and has my thanks. I am ready now to bear witness frankly."

Cassion leaned over whispering, but De Baugis merely frowned, and shook his head, his eyes on my face. I felt the friendly touch of M.

de Tonty's hand on my shoulder, and the slight pressure brought me courage.

"What is it you desire me to tell, Monsieur?"

"The story of your midnight visit to the Mission garden at St. Ignace, the night Hugo Chevet was killed. Tell it in your own words, Madame."

As I began my voice trembled, and I was obliged to grip the arms of the chair to keep myself firm. There was a mist before my eyes, and I saw only De Artigny's face, as he leaned forward eagerly listening.

Not even he realized all I had witnessed that night, and yet I must tell the truth--the whole truth, even though the telling cost his life. The words came faster, and my nerves ceased to throb. I read sympathy in De Baugis' eyes, and addressed him alone. Twice he asked me questions, in so kindly a manner as to win instant reply, and once he checked Cassion when he attempted to interrupt, his voice stern with authority. I told the story simply, plainly, with no attempt at equivocation, and when I ceased speaking the room was as silent as a tomb. De Baugis sat motionless, but Cassion stared at me across the table, his face dark with passion.

"Wait," he cried as though thinking me about to rise. "There are questions yet."

"Monsieur," said De Baugis coldly. "If there are questions it is my place to ask them."

"Ay," angrily beating his hand on the board, "but it is plain to be seen the woman has bewitched you. No, I will not be denied; I am Commandant here, and with force enough behind me to make my will law.

Scowl if you will, but here is La Barre's commission, and I dare you ignore it. So answer me, Madame--you saw De Artigny bend over the body of Chevet--was your uncle then dead?"

"I know not, Monsieur; but there was no movement."

"Why did you make no report?--was it to shield De Artigny?"

I hesitated, yet the answer had to be made.

"The Sieur de Artigny was my friend, Monsieur. I did not believe him guilty, yet my evidence would have cast suspicion upon him. I felt it best to remain still, and wait."

"You suspected another?"

"Not then, Monsieur, but since."

Cassion sat silent, not overly pleased with my reply, but De Baugis smiled grimly.

"By my faith," he said, "the tale gathers interest. You have grown to suspicion another since, Madame--dare you name the man?"

My eyes sought the face of De Tonty, and he nodded gravely.

"It can do no harm, Madame," he muttered softly. "Put the paper in De Baugis' hand."

I drew it, crumpled, from out the bosom of my dress, rose to my feet, and held it forth to the Captain of Dragoons. He grasped it wonderingly.