ings lately, since I saw you. And
Pierre De Ber asked the good father, when he went to be catechised on
Friday, if the world was really round. And Pere Rameau said it was not a
matter of salvation and that it made no difference whether it was round
or square. Pierre is sure it must be a big, flat plain. You know we can
go out ever so far on the prairies and it is quite level."

"You must go to school, little one. Knowledge will solve many doubts.
There will be better schools and more of them. Where does your father
live? I should like to see him. And who is this woman?" nodding to
Jeanne's attendant.

"That is Pani. She has always cared for me. I have no father, Monsieur,
and we cannot be sure about my mother. I haven't minded but I think now
I would like to have some parents, if they did not beat me and make me
work."

"Pani is an Indian?"

"Yes. She was Monsieur Bellestre's servant. And one day, under a great
oak outside the palisade, some one, an Indian squaw, dropped me in her
lap. Pani could not understand her language, but she said in French,
'Maman dead, dead.' And when M. Bellestre went away, far, far to the
south on the great river, he had the little cottage fixed for Pani and
me, and there we live."

St Armand beckoned the woman, who had been making desperate signs of
disapprobation to Jeanne.

"Tell me the story of this little girl," he said authoritatively.

"Monsieur, she is mine and M. Bellestre's. Even the priest has no right
to take her away."

"No one will take her away, my good woman. Do not fear." For Pani's face
was pale with terror and her whole form trembled. "Did you know nothing
about this woman who brought her to you?"

Pani told the story with some hesitation. The Indian woman talked very
fair French. To what tribe she had belonged, even the De Longueils had
not known otherwise than that she had been sent to Detroit with some
Pawnee prisoners.

"It is very curious," he commented. "I must go to the Recollet house and
see these articles. And now tell me where I can find you--for I am due
at the banquet given for General Wayne."

"It is in St. Joseph's street above the Citadel," said Jeanne. "Oh, will
you come? And perhaps you will not mind if I ask you some questions
about the things that puzzle me," and an eager light shone in her eyes.

"Oh, not at all. Good day, little one. I shall see you soon," and he
waved his hand.

Jeanne gave a regretful smile. But then he would come. Oh