He addressed her in the Huron tongue; she answered irrelevantly in French. A frown crossed his brow, but he handed them both out of the boat with a firm grasp on the arm of each, and led them to the smaller tent of the two. Some fir and hemlock branches had been thrown on the ground and covered with a blanket. “You and the child will be safe here. You will be well guarded,” with a cruel little smile. “Some supper will be sent you. Compose yourself.” She gave no sign of recognition. “You cannot deceive me, Firefly of the Hurons, even if some French blood does course in your veins and you are tricked out in this attire. Your brother’s anger was kindled against you when you made him break his word, when you ran off with a vile Frenchman. If you could have been found justice would have been swift and sure. And now you will go back. You will not be a wife this time, but a slave to your master and his other wives.” “I am a wife already,” she answered proudly in his language, since it was no use to feign. “I have been wedded a year by a priest, and the Great Manitou will call down vengeance upon those who dare interfere with his ordinances. And what right have you to bring me here?” “I bought you, Mistress Insolence. And I shall double my price when the Chief Pamussac hears that you will be at his service.” There was a little dagger lying in a treasure box at home. Her husband had given it to her. If she had it here she would stab him to the heart. “Well, what is your reply?” he asked in a tone of triumph. “Your white lord is dead. He cannot come at your call.” “My reply is that we are both hungry and want some supper,” she returned in an impatient tone. “And then some more blankets,” glancing disdainfully at the pile of boughs. “You will hardly double your money if you starve or maltreat me. I may die on your hands.” Black Feather was more than amazed at the effrontery of the girl. He stared at her, and his fingers worked as if he would like to clutch her by the throat. Yes, what she said was true enough. Wawataysee knew well that an Indian despised any sign of weakness or cowardice, and that to secure good treatment she must put on the boldness of the soldier who does not fear even death, and from whom his persecutors can extort no groan. “I will send you some supper. And guards shall be set to keep you from harm,” in a mocking tone. “Take my thanks for that,” she flung out sharply. “I am mortally afraid of the wild beasts of the forests. And I would like some sleep after this hot, fatiguing day and the early start of the morning.” “Oh, what did he say?” and Renée clung to her with desperation. “He was so fierce I thought he would kill us. And why are we here? Where is Elk Horn?” “My little darling, it seems that we have been sold and are to be taken up north, unless the Great Manitou or the pitying Virgin listens to our prayers and sends us rescue. It is a long way and something may happen.” Renée began to cry.