nsieur; my niece?"

La Barre permitted himself a laugh.

"Bah! let the land lie fallow; 'twill cost little while you draw a
wage, and as for Mademoiselle, 'tis that you may accompany her I make
choice. Stand back; you have your orders, and now I'll show you good
reason." He stood up, and placed his hand on Cassion's arm. "Now my
dear, Francois, if you will join the lady."

CHAPTER VI

THE WIFE OF FRANCOIS CASSION

It is vague, all that transpired. I knew then, and recall now, much of
the scene yet it returns to memory more in a passing picture than an
actual reality in which I was an actor. But one clear impression
dominated my brain--my helplessness to resist the command of La Barre.
His word was law in the colony, and from it there was no appeal, save
to the King. Through swimming mist I saw his face, stern, dark,
threatening, and then glimpsed Cassion approaching me, a smile curling
his thin lips. I shrank back from him, yet arose to my feet, trembling
so that I clung to the chair to keep erect.

"Do not touch me, Monsieur," I said, in a voice which scarcely sounded
like my own. Cassion stood still, the smile of triumph leaving his
face. La Barre turned, his eyes cold and hard.

"What is this, Mademoiselle? You would dare disobey me?"

I caught my breath, gripping the chair with both hands.

"No, Monsieur le Governor," I answered, surprised at the clearness
with which I spoke. "That would be useless; you have behind you the
power of France, and I am a mere girl. Nor do I appeal, for I know
well the cause of your decision. It is indeed my privilege to appeal
to Holy Church for protection from this outrage, but not through such
representative as I see here."

"Pere le Guard is chaplain of my household."

"And servant to your will, Monsieur. 'Tis known in all New France he
is more diplomat than priest. Nay! I take back my word, and will make
trial of his priesthood. Father, I do not love this man, nor marry him
of my own free will. I appeal to you, to the church, to refuse the
sanction."

The priest stood with fingers interlocked, and head bowed, nor did his
eyes meet mine.

"I am but the humble instrument of those in authority, Daughter," he
replied gently, "and must perform the sacred duties of my office. 'Tis
your own confession that your hand has been pledged to Monsieur
Cassion."

"By Hugo Chevet, not myself."

"Without objection on your part." He glanced up slyly. "Perchance this
was b