dead
there would have been no one--and now you will get well again."

Pani shook her head, but Jeanne could discern the awakening
intelligence.

"Mam'selle!" Margot seemed but half convinced. Then she glanced about
the room. "M. Garis was in such haste for his boy's clothes that I have
done nothing but sew and sew. Marie has gone out to service and there
are only the little ones. My own house has been neglected."

"Yes. Heaven will reward you for your goodness to her all this dreadful
time, when you have had to work hard for your own."

Margot began to pick up articles and straighten the room, to gather the
few unwashed dishes.

"Oh, Mam'selle, it made a great stir. The neighbors and the guards went
out and searched. Some wild beast might have devoured you, but they
found no trace. And they thought of Indians. Poor Pani! But all will be
well now. Nay, Mam'selle," as Jeanne would have stopped her, "there will
be people in, for strange news travels fast."

That was very likely. In a brief while they had the room tidy. Then
Jeanne fixed a seat at the other side of the fireplace, spread the fur
rug over it, and led the unresisting Pani thither, wrapped her in a
fresh blanket, and took off the cap, smoothing out the neglected hair
that seemed strangely white about the pale, brown face. The high cheek
bones left great hollows underneath, but in spite of the furrows of age
the skin was soft.

The woman gave a low, pleased laugh, and nodded.

"Father Rameau will come," she said.

"Father Rameau! Has he returned?" inquired the girl.

"Oh, yes, Mam'selle, and so glad to get back to Detroit. I cannot tell
you all his delight. And then his sorrow for you. For we were afraid you
were no longer living. What a strange story!"

"It has happened before, being carried away by Indians. Some time you
shall hear all, Margot."

The woman nodded. "And if you do not want me, Mam'selle--" for there was
much to do at home.

"I do not need you so much just now, but come in again presently. Oh, I
can never repay you!"

"Wenonah has done more than I."

In the warmth of the fire and the comfortable atmosphere about her, Pani
had fallen asleep. Jeanne glanced into the chamber. The beds were spread
up, and, except dust, things were not bad, but she put them in the olden
order. Then she bathed her face and combed the tangles out of her hair.
Here was her blue woolen gown, with the curious embroidery of beads and
bright thread, that