aid who must tell her own story, good dame, for my wits seem
scattered. She hath been sent by Owaissa the Indian maiden and brought
by her servitor in a canoe. Tell thy story, child."

"She is shivering with the cold and looks blue as a midwinter icicle.
She must have some tea to warm her up. Stir a fire, Loudac."

Jeanne sat trembling and the tears ran down her cheeks. In a moment
there was a fragrant blaze of pine boughs, and a kettle swung over them.

"A little brandy would be better," said the man.

Now that the strain was over Jeanne felt as if all her strength had
given way. Was she really safe? The hearty French accent sounded like
home; and the dark, round face, with the almost laughing black eyes,
albeit there were wrinkles around them, cheered her inmost heart. The
tea was soon made and the brandy added a piquant flavor.

"Thou wert late starting on thy journey," said the woman, a tint of
suspicion in her voice.

"It was only this afternoon that the Indian maid Owaissa found me and
heard my story. For safety she sent me away at once. Perhaps in the
daytime I might have been pursued."

"True, true. An Indian knows best about Indian ways. Most of them are a
treacherous, bad lot, made much worse by drink, but there are a few. The
maiden Owaissa comes from the Strait."

"To meet her lover it was said. He is that handsome half or quarter
breed, Louis Marsac, a shrewd trader for one so young, and who, with his
father, is delving in the copper mines of Lake Superior. Yes. What went
before, child?"

She was glad to leave Marsac. Could she tell her story without
incriminating him? The first part went smoothly enough. Then she
hesitated and felt her color rising. "It was at Bois Blanc," she said.
"They had left me alone. The beautiful Indian girl was there, and I
begged her to save me. I told her my story and she wrapped me in her
blanket. We were much the same size, and though I trembled so that my
knees bent under me, I went off the boat without any question. Wanita
was waiting with the canoe and brought me over."

"Were you not afraid--and there was no moon?"

Jeanne raised her eyes to the kindly ones.

"Oh, yes," she answered with a shiver. "Lake Huron is so large, only
there are islands scattered about. But when it grew very dark I simply
trusted Wanita."

"And he could go in a canoe to the end of the world if it was all lakes
and rivers," exclaimed Loudac. "These Indians--did you know their
tribe?"