"Ah, then you will know the truth no doubt. De Tonty and Cassion were at swords points over a charge the latter made against Rene de Artigny--that he had murdered one of the party at St. Ignace." "Hugo Chevet, the fur trader." "Ay, that was the name. We of La Salle's company know it to be a lie. _Sacre_! I have served with that lad two years, and 'tis not in his nature to knife any man in the back. And so De Tonty said, and he gave Cassion the lie straight in his teeth. I heard their words, and but for De Baugis and De la Durantaye, Francois Cassion would have paid well for his false tongue. Now you can tell him the truth." "I shall do that, but even my word, I fear, will not clear De Artigny of the charge. I believe the man to be innocent; in my heart there is no doubt, yet there is so little to be proven." "Cassion speaks bitterly; he is an enemy." "Monsieur Cassion is my husband," I said regretfully. "Your pardon, Madame. Ah, I understand it all now. You were supposed to have been drowned in the great lake, but were saved by De Artigny. 'Twill be a surprise for Monsieur, but in this land, we witness strange things. _Mon Dieu_! see, they come yonder; 'tis Boisrondet and his men." They approached in silence, mere shadowy figures, whose numbers I could not count, but those in advance bore a helpless body in their arms, and my heart seemed to stop its beating, until I heard De Artigny's voice in cheerful greeting. "What, still here, Madame, and the gate beyond open," he took my hand, and lifted it to his lips. "My congratulations; your work was well done, and our lives thank you. Madame Cassion, this is my comrade, Francois Boisrondet, whose voice I was never more glad to hear than this night. I commend him to your mercy." Boisrondet, a mere shadow in the night, swept the earth with his hat. "I mind me the time," he said courteously, "when Rene did me equal service." "The savages have fled?" "'Twas short, and sweet, Madame, and those who failed to fly are lying yonder." "Yet some among you are hurt?" "Barbeau hath an ugly wound--ay, bear him along, lads, and have the cut looked to--but as for the rest of us, there is no serious harm done." I was gazing at De Artigny, and marked how he held one hand to his side. "And you, Monsieur; you are unscathed?" "Except for a small wound here, and a head which rings yet from savage blows--no more than a night's rest will remedy. Come, Madame 'tis time we were within, and the gates closed." "Is there still danger then? Surely now that we are under protection there will be no attack?" "Not from those we have passed, but 'tis told me there are more than a thousand Iroquois warriors in the valley, and the garrison has less than fifty men all told. It was luck we got through so easily. Ay, Boisrondet, we are ready."