"My own mate for one--Georges Descartes; he swore to seeing De Artigny follow Chevet from the boats, and that was not true, for we were together all that day. I would have said so, but the court bade me be still."

"Ay, they were not seeking such testimony. No matter what you said, Jules, De Artigny would have been condemned--it was La Barre's orders."

"Yes, Madame, so I thought."

"Did the Sieur de Artigny speak?"

"A few words, Madame, until M. Cassion ordered him to remain still.

Then M. de Baugis pronounced sentence--it was that he be shot tomorrow."

"The hour?"

"I heard none mentioned, Madame."

"And a purpose in that also to my mind. This gives them twenty-four hours in which to consummate murder. They fear De Tonty and his men may attempt rescue; 'tis to find out the three have gone now to his quarters. That is all, Jules; you had best not be seen talking here with me."

I closed the door, and dropped the bar securely into place. I knew the worst now, and felt sick and faint. Tears would not come to relieve, yet it seemed as though my brain ceased working, as if I had lost all physical and mental power. I know not how long I sat there, dazed, incompetent to even express the vague thoughts which flashed through my brain. A rapping on the door aroused me. The noise, the insistent raps awoke me as from sleep.

"Who wishes entrance?"

"I--Cassion; I demand speech with you."

"For what purpose, Monsieur?"

"_Mon Dieu!_ Does a man have to give excuse for desiring to speak with his own wife? Open the door, or I'll have it broken in. Have you not yet learned I am master here?"

I drew the bar, no longer with any sense of fear, but impelled by a desire to hear the man's message. I stepped back, taking refuge behind the table, as the door opened, and he strode in, glancing first at me, then suspiciously about the apartment.

"You are alone?"

"Assuredly, Monsieur; did you suspect others to be present?"

"Hell's fire! How did I know; you have time enough to spare for others, although I have had no word with you since you came. I come now only to tell you the news."

"If it be the condemnation of Sieur de Artigny, you may spare your words."

"You know that! Who brought you the message?"

"What difference, Monsieur? I would know the result without messenger.

You have done your master's will. What said De Tonty when you told him?"

Cassion laughed, as though the memory was pleasant.

"Faith, Madame, if you base your hopes there on rescue you'll scarce meet with great result. De Tonty is all bark. _Mon Dieu!_ I went in to hold him to account for his insult, and the fellow met us with such gracious speech, that the four of us drank together like old comrades.

The others are there yet, but I had a proposition to make you--so I left them."

"A proposition, Monsieur?"

"Ay, a declaration of peace, if you will. Listen Adele, for this is the last time I speak you thus fairly. I have this De Artigny just where I want him now. His life is in my hands. I can squeeze it out like that; or I can open my fingers, and let him go. Now you are to decide which it is to be. Here is where you choose, between that forest brat and me."

"Choose between you? Monsieur you must make your meaning more clear."

"_Mon Dieu_, is it not clear already? Then I will make it so. You are my wife by law of Holy Church. Never have you loved me, yet I can pass that by, if you grant me a husband's right. This De Artigny has come between us, and now his life is in my hands. I know not that you love the brat, yet you have that interest in him which would prevent forgiveness of me if I show no mercy. So now I come and offer you his life, if you consent to be my wife in truth. Is that fair?"

"It may so sound," I answered calmly, "yet the sacrifice is all mine.

How would you save the man?"

"By affording him opportunity to escape during the night; first accepting his pledge never to see you again."

"Think you he would give such pledge?"

Cassion laughed sarcastically.

"Bah, what man would not to save his life! It is for you to speak the word."

I stood silent, hesitating to give final answer. Had I truly believed De Artigny's case hopeless I might have yielded, and made pledge. But as I gazed into Cassion's face, smiling with assurance of victory, all my dislike of the man returned, and I shrank back in horror. The sacrifice was too much, too terrible; besides I had faith in the promises of De Tonty, in the daring of Boisrondet. I would trust them, aye, and myself, to find some other way of rescue.

"Monsieur," I said firmly, "I understand your proposition, and refuse it. I will make no pledge."

"You leave him to die?"

"If it be God's will. I cannot dishonor myself, even to save life. You have my answer. I bid you go."

Never did I see such look of beastly rage in the face of any man. He had lost power of speech, but his fingers clutched as though he had my throat in their grip. Frightened, I stepped back, and Chevet's pistol gleamed in my hand.

"You hear me, Monsieur--go!"

CHAPTER XXX

I CHOOSE MY FUTURE

He backed out the door, growling and threatening. I caught little of what he said, nor did I in the least care. All I asked, or desired, was to be alone, to be free of his presence. I swung the door in his very face, and fastened the bar. Through the thick wood his voice still penetrated in words of hatred. Then it ceased, and I was alone in the silence, sinking down nerveless beside the table, my face buried in my hands.

I had done right; I knew I had done right, yet the reaction left me weak and pulseless. I saw now clearly what must be done. Never could I live with this Cassion; never again could I acknowledge him as husband. Right or wrong, whatever the Church might do, or the world might say, I had come to the parting of the ways; here and now I must choose my own life, obey the dictates of my own conscience. I had been wedded by fraud to a man I despised; my hatred had grown until now I knew that I would rather be dead than live in his presence.

If this state of mind was sin, it was beyond my power to rid myself of the curse; if I was already condemned of Holy Church because of failure to abide by her decree, then there was naught left but for me to seek my own happiness, and the happiness of the man I loved.

I lifted my head, strengthened by the very thought, the red blood tingling again through my veins. The truth was mine; I felt no inclination to obscure it. The time had come for rejoicing, and action. I loved Rene de Artigny, and, although he had never spoken the word, I knew he loved me. Tomorrow he would be in exile, a wanderer of the woods, an escaped prisoner, under condemnation of death, never again safe within reach of French authority. Ay, but he should not go alone; in the depths of those forests, beyond the arm of the law, beyond even the grasp of the Church, we should be together. In our own hearts love would justify. Without a qualm of conscience, without even a lingering doubt, I made the choice, the final decision.

I know not how long it took me to think this all out, until I had accepted fate; but I do know the decision brought happiness and courage. Food was brought me by a strange Indian, apparently unable to speak French; nor would he even enter the room, silently handing me the platter through the open door. Two sentries stood just without--soldiers of De Baugis, I guessed, as their features were unfamiliar. They gazed at me curiously, as I stood in the doorway, but without changing their attitudes. Plainly I was held prisoner also; M. Cassion's threat was being put into execution. This knowledge merely served to strengthen my decision, and I closed, and barred the door again, smiling as I did so.

It grew dusk while I made almost vain effort to eat, and, at last, pushing the pewter plate away, I crossed over, and cautiously opened the wooden shutter of the window. The red light of the sunset still illumined the western sky, and found glorious reflection along the surface of the river. It was a dizzy drop to the bed of the stream below, but Indians were on the opposite bank, beyond rifle shot, in considerable force, a half-dozen canoes drawn up on the sandy shore, and several fires burning. They were too far away for me to judge their tribe, yet a number among them sported war bonnets, and I had no doubt they were Iroquois.

So far as I could perceive elsewhere there was no movement, as my eyes traveled the half circle, over a wide vista of hill and dale, green valley and dark woods, although to the left I could occasionally hear the sharp report of a rifle, in evidence that besieging savages were still watchful of the fort entrance. I could not lean out far enough to see in that direction, yet as the night grew darker the vicious spits of fire became visible. Above me the solid log walls arose but a few feet--a tall man might stand upon the window ledge, and find grip of the roof; but below was the sheer drop to the river--perchance two hundred feet beneath. Already darkness shrouded the water, as the broad valley faded into the gloom of the night.