priest he expected?"

"I told you. He hired some Indians to take me from Detroit, after his
boat had left. I would not go. I did not want to marry him and said
'_no_' dozens of times. They took me out in a canoe. I think they were
Hurons; I did not understand their language. Somewhere--I do not know
where we are now, and I cannot remember the days that passed, but they
met the trader's boat and put me on it, and then I knew it was Louis
Marsac who had stolen me. Has he gone for a priest? Is that what you
said? Oh, save me! Help me to escape. I might throw myself into the bay,
but I can swim. I should not like to die when life is so sweet and
beautiful, and I am afraid I should try to save myself or some one might
rescue me. Oh, believe it is no lie! I do not want to marry him."

"You have another lover?" The eyes seemed to pierce her through, as if
sure of an affirmative.

"I have no lover, not even in Detroit. I do not like love. It is foolish
and full of hot kisses, and I do not want to marry. Oh, save me if you
have any pity! Help me to escape!"

She slipped down at the Indian girl's feet and caught at the garment of
feathers so smooth and soft it seemed like satin.

"See here." The visitor put her hand in her bosom and drew forth a small
dagger with a pearl hilt in which was set jewels. Jeanne shuddered, but
remained on her knees, glancing up piteously.

"See here. I came to kill you. I said no French girl, be she beautiful
as moonlight on the lake, shall marry Louis Marsac. He belongs to me. No
woman shall be folded in his arms or lie on his breast or rejoice in the
kisses of his mouth and live! I cannot understand. When one has tasted
the sweetness--and he is so handsome, not so different from his mother's
race but that I am a fit mate for him. My father was a chief, and there
was a quarrel between him and a relative who claimed the right, and he
was killed. Ah, you can never know how good and tender Louis was to me,
so different from most of the clumsy Canadian traders; next, I think, to
the great White Chief of the island; yes, handsomer, though not as
large. All the winter and spring he loved me. And this cabin was mine. I
came here many times. He loves me unless you have stolen his heart with
some evil charm. Stand up; see. I am as tall as you. My skin is fine and
clear, if not as pale as the white faces; and yours--pouf! you have no
rose in your cheeks. Is not my mouth made for kisses? I like those that