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.

Then I had vanished, supposedly drowned in the great lake. He had
sought me vainly along the shore, and finally turned away, convinced