is misfortunes settled more heavily upon her as she drew nearer to
the end of woman companionship.

In former times, before such bitterness had grown in the feud between
D'Aulnay and La Tour, she had made frequent voyages from Cape Sable up
Fundy Bay to Port Royal. The winters were then merry among noble
Acadians, and the lady of Fort St. Louis at Cape Sable was hostess of a
rich seigniory. Now she had the sickness of suspense, and the wasting of
life in waiting. Frequently during the day she met Father Jogues, who
also wandered about disturbed by the evident necessity of his return to
Montreal.

"Monsieur," said Marie once, "can you on your conscience bless a
heretic?"

"Madame," said Father Jogues, "heaven itself blesses a good and
excellent woman."

"Well, monsieur, if you could lift up your hand, even with the sign
which my house holds idolatrous, and say a few words of prayer, I
should then feel consecrated to whatever is before me."

Perhaps Father Jogues was tempted to have recourse to his vial of holy
water and make the baptismal signs. Many a soul he truly believed he had
saved from burning by such secret administration. And if savages could
be thus reclaimed, should he hold back from the only opportunity ever
given by this beautiful soul? His face shone. But with that gracious
instinct to refrain from intermeddling which was beyond his times, he
only lifted his stumps of fingers and spoke the words which she craved.
A maimed priest is deprived of his sacred offices, but the pope had made
a special dispensation for Father Jogues.

"Thanks, monsieur," said Marie. "Though it be sin to declare it, I will
say your religion hath mother-comfort in it. Perhaps you have felt, in
the woods among Iroquois, that sometime need of mother-comfort which a
civilized woman may feel who has long outgrown her childhood."

The mandolin was heard in the barracks once during those days, for Le
Rossignol had come out of the house determined to seek out Marguerite.
She found the Swiss girl beside the powder magazine, for Marguerite had
brought out a stool, and seemed trying to cure her sick spirit in the
sun. The dwarf stood still and looked at her with insolent eyes.
Soldiers' wives hid themselves within their doors, cautiously watching,
or thrusting out their heads to shake at one another or to squall at any
child venturing too near the encounter. They did not like the strange
girl, and besides, she was in their way. But the