the woods. But three days are soon spent, and we need not
march back so hastily. Our women have stood more than that."

"You will see how much I can stand," she answered proudly. She believed
the admiring eyes were for her courage alone.

Go she must. She did not stop to question. There was only one thing
uppermost in her mind. If he died she must see him; if he lived, she
must wait upon him, comfort him in his sorrow, for although in a vague
way she knew he had not come up to the highest joy in his marriage, any
more than her dear Sieur de Champlain, he had cared very tenderly for
miladi, and would sorrow to know her shut out of life. And it had been
so quiet at the last, just falling asleep. Her arms had been around her,
her voice the last sound miladi had heard. He would rejoice in his
sorrow that all had been so tranquil.

Rose and Wanamee came down in their robes of fur, with their deerskin
frocks underneath. Rose's cap had its visor turned up and it framed in
her beautiful face. Her hair fell in loose curls, the way she had always
worn it, and the morning sun sent golden gleams amongst it. There was a
small crowd to wish them God-speed.

The horses that De Champlain had brought over and a few mules that had
been at Cape Tourmente were carried off in the English raid. True, they
would not have been of much account in the overgrown brush of the
wilderness.

"Mam'selle," Savignon said, after an hour or two, "do not hurry ahead
so. You will tire before night."

"I feel as if I could run, or fly," she made answer, and she looked so.

CHAPTER XVI

A LOVER OF THE WILDERNESS

The weather was splendid, the sky cloudless, the air scented with the
resinous fragrance of cedar, fir, and pine. They paused for a midday
lunch and then kept on until dark. In a clearing in an almost
impenetrable forest they paused, built a fire, and prepared to camp.
Savignon drew some young saplings together and filled up the interstices
with boughs, ordering smaller ones inside that a sort of bed should be
raised off the ground. One of the men had shot some squirrels, and their
broiling over the coals was appetizing.

"You and Wanamee will be quite safe," the guide said. "We shall wrap in
our blankets and sleep about the fire. If you hear the cry of wolves, do
not be alarmed."

"How good you are," Rose returned, her eyes glorious with grateful
emotions. "M. Destournier will never forget your service. It cannot be
rewarded."