face of Father
Jogues none but a savage could resist.

His downcast eyelids were like a woman's, and so was his delicate mouth.
The cheeks, shading inward from their natural oval, testified to a life
of hardship. His full and broad forehead, bordered by a fringe of hair
left around his tonsure, must have overbalanced his lower face, had that
not been covered by a short beard, parted on the upper lip and peaked at
the end. His eyebrows were well marked, and the large-orbed eyes seemed
so full of smiling meditation that Marie said to herself, "This lovely,
woman-looking man hath the presence of an angel, and we have chilled him
in our keep!"

"Peace be with you, madame," spoke Father Jogues.

"Monsieur, I crave your pardon for the cold greeting you have had in
this fortress. We are people who live in perils, and we may be
over-suspicious."

"Madame, I have no complaint to bring against you."

Both men were shivering, and she directed them to places on the settle.
They sat where the vagrant girl had huddled. Father Jogues warmed his
hands, and she noticed how abruptly serrated by missing or maimed
fingers was their tapered shape. The man who had gone out to the
cook-house returned with platters, and in passing the Swiss lieutenant
gave him a hurried word, on which the Swiss left the hall. The two men
made space for Father Jogues at their lady's board, and brought forward
another table for his donne.

"Good friends," said Marie, "this Huguenot fare is offered you heartily,
and I hope you will as heartily take it, thereby excusing the hunger of
a woman who has just come in from seafaring."

"Madame," returned the priest, "we have scarcely seen civilized food
since leaving Montreal, and we need no urging to enjoy this bounty. But,
if you permit, I will sit here beside my brother Lalande."

"As you please," she answered, glancing at the plain young Frenchman in
colonial dress with suspicion that he was made the excuse for separating
Romanist and Protestant.

Father Jogues saw her glance and read her thought, and silently accused
himself of cowardice for shrinking, in his maimed state, from her table
with the instincts of a gentle-born man. He explained, resting his hand
upon the chair which had been moved from the lady's to his servant's
table:--

"We have no wish to be honored above our desert, madame. We are only
humble missionaries, and often while carrying the truth have been
thankful for a meal of roots or b