more; you can rob me now––but, mark you! all that you will ever get is money. Monsieur Cassion, if you dare lay so much as a finger on me, I will kill you, as I would a snake. I know what I say, and mean it. You kiss me! Try it, Monsieur, if you doubt how my race repays insult. I will go with you; I will bear your name; this the law compels, but I am still mistress 80 of my soul, and of my body. You hear me, Messieurs? You understand?”
Cassion stood leaning forward, just where my first words had held him motionless. As I paused his eyes were on my face, and he lifted a hand to wipe away drops of perspiration. La Barre crumpled the paper he held savagely.
“So,” he exclaimed, “we have unchained a tiger cat. Well, all this is naught to me; and Francois, I leave you and the wilderness to do the taming. In faith, ’tis time already you were off. You agree to accompany the party without resistance, Madame?”
“As well there, as here,” I answered contemptuously.
“And you, Hugo Chevet?”
The giant growled something inarticulate through his beard, not altogether, I thought, to La Barre’s liking, for his face darkened.
“By St. Anne! ’tis a happy family amid which you start your honeymoon, Monsieur Cassion,” he ejaculated at length, “but go you must, though I send a file of soldiers with you to the boats. Now leave me, and I would hear no more until word comes of your arrival at St. Louis.”
We left the room together, the three of us, and no one spoke, as we traversed the great assembly hall, in which dancers still lingered, and gained the outer hall. 81 Cassion secured my cloak, and I wrapped it about my shoulders, for the night air without was already chill, and then, yet in unbroken silence, we passed down the steps into the darkness of the street. I walked beside Chevet, who was growling to himself, scarce sober enough to clearly realize what had occurred, and so we followed the Commissaire down the steep path which led to the river.
There was no pomp now, no military guard, or blazing torches. All about us was gloom and silence, the houses fronting the narrow passage black, although a gleam of fire revealed the surface of the water below. The rough paving made walking difficult, and I tripped twice during the descent, once wrenching an ankle, but with no outcry. I was scarce conscious of the pain, or of my surroundings, for my mind still stood aghast over what had occurred. It had been so swiftly accomplished I yet failed to grasp the full significance.
Vaguely I comprehended that I was no longer Adele la Chesnayne, but the wife of that man I followed. A word, a muttered prayer, an uplifted hand, had made me his slave, his vassal. Nothing could break the bond between us save death. I might hate, despise, revile, but the bond held. This thought grew clearer as my mind readjusted itself, and the full horror of the situation took possession of me. Yet there was nothing I could do; I could neither escape or fight, nor 82 had I a friend to whom I could appeal. Suddenly I realized that I still grasped in my hand the heavy paper knife I had snatched up from La Barre’s desk, and I thrust it into the waistband of my skirt. It was my only weapon of defense, yet to know I had even that seemed to bring me a glow of courage.
We reached the river’s edge and halted. Below us, on the bank, the blazing fire emitted a red gleam reflecting on the water, and showing us the dark outlines of waiting canoes, and seated figures. Gazing about Cassion broke the silence, his voice assuming the harshness of authority.
“Three canoes! Where is the other? Huh! if there be delay now, someone will make answer to me. Pass the word for the sergeant; ah! is this you Le Claire?”
“All is prepared, Monsieur.”
He glared at the stocky figure fronting him in infantry uniform.
“Prepared! You have but three boats at the bank.”
“The other is below, Monsieur; it is loaded and waits to lead the way.”
“Ah! and who is in charge?”
“Was it not your will that it be the guide––the Sieur de Artigny?”
“Sacre! but I had forgotten the fellow. Ay! ’tis the best place for him. And are all provisions and arms aboard? You checked them, Le Claire?”
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“With care, Monsieur; I watched the stowing of each piece; there is nothing forgotten.”
“And the men?”
“Four Indian paddlers to each boat, Monsieur, twenty soldiers, a priest, and the guide.”
“’Tis the tally. Make room for two more in the large canoe; ay, the lady goes. Change a soldier each to your boat and that of Père Allouez until we make our first camp, where we can make new arrangement.”
“There is room in De Artigny’s canoe.”
“We’ll not call him back; the fellows will tuck away somehow. Come, let’s be off, it looks like dawn over yonder.”
I found myself in one of the canoes, so filled with men any movement was almost impossible, yet of this I did not complain for my Uncle Chevet was next to me, and Cassion took place at the steering oar in the stern. To be separated from him was all I asked, although the very sound of his harsh voice rasping out orders, as we swung out from the bank rendered me almost frantic. My husband! God! and I was actually married to that despicable creature! I think I hardly realized before what had occurred, but now the hideous truth came, and I buried my face in my hands, and felt tears stealing through my fingers.
Yet only for a moment were these tears of weakness. Indignation, anger, hatred conquered me. He 84 had won! he had used power to conquer! Very well, now he would pay the price. He thought me a helpless girl; he would find me a woman, and a La Chesnayne. The tears left my eyes, and my head lifted, as purpose and decision returned.
We were skirting the northern bank, the high bluffs blotting out the stars, with here and there, far up above us, a light gleaming from some distant window, its rays reflecting along the black water. The Indian paddlers worked silently, driving the sharp prow of the heavily laden canoe steadily up stream. Farther out to the left was the dim outline of another boat, keeping pace with ours, the moving figures of the paddlers revealed against the water beyond.
I endeavored to discern the canoe which led the way, over which De Artigny held command, but it was hidden by a wall of mist too far away to be visible. Yet the very thought that the young Sieur was there, accompanying us into the drear wilderness, preserved me from utter despair. I would not be alone, or friendless. Even when he learned the truth, he would know it was not my fault, and though he might question, and even doubt, at first, yet surely the opportunity would come for me to confess all, and feel his sympathy, and protection. I cannot explain the confidence which this certainty of his presence brought, or how gratefully I awaited the dawn, and its revelation.
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’Tis not in the spirit of youth to be long depressed by misfortune, and although each echo of Cassion’s voice recalled my condition, I was not indifferent to the changing scene. Chevet, still sodden with drink, fell asleep, his head on his pack, but I remained wide awake, watching the first faint gleam of light along the edge of the cloud stretching across the eastern sky line. It was a dull, drear morning, everywhere a dull gray, the wide waters about us silent and deserted. To the right the shore line was desolate and bare, except for blackened stumps of fire-devastated woods, and brown rocks, while in every other direction the river spread wide in sullen flow. There was no sound but the dip of
