"M. de Tonty," I said, determined now to address him in all frankness. "It is true that I am legally the wife of this man of whom you speak, but this only enables me to know his motives better. This condemnation of Sieur de Artigny is not his plan alone; it was born in the brain of La Barre, and Cassion merely executes his orders. I have here the written instructions under which he operates." I held out to him the page from La Barre's letter. CHAPTER XXVIII THE COURT MARTIAL De Tonty took the paper from my hand, glanced at it, then lifted his eyes inquiringly to mine. "'Tis in the governor's own hand. How came this in your possession?" "I found it in Cassion's private bag last night, under the berth yonder. Later he came and carried the bag away, never suspecting it had been opened. His commission was there also. Read it, Monsieur." He did so slowly, carefully, seeming to weigh every word, his eyes darkening, and a flush creeping into his swarthy cheeks. "Madame," he exclaimed at last. "I care not whether the man be your husband, but this is a damnable conspiracy, hatched months ago in Quebec." I bowed my head. "Beyond doubt, Monsieur." "And you found nothing more? no documents taken from Hugo Chevet?" "None, Monsieur; they were either destroyed in accordance with La Barre's instructions, or else M. Cassion has them on his person." "But I do not understand the reason for such foul treachery. What occurred back in New France to cause the murder of Chevet, and this attempt to convict De Artigny of the crime?" "Sit here, Monsieur," I said, my voice trembling, "and I will tell you the whole story. I must tell you, for there is no one else in Fort St. Louis whom I can trust." He sat silent, and bareheaded, his eyes never leaving my face as I spoke. At first I hesitated, my words hard to control, but as I continued, and felt his sympathy, speech became easier. All unconsciously his hand reached out and rested on mine, as though in encouragement, and only twice did he interrupt my narrative with questions. I told the tale simply, concealing nothing, not even my growing love for De Artigny. The man listening inspired my utmost confidence--I sought his respect and faith. As I came to the end his hand grasp tightened, but, for a moment, he remained motionless and silent, his eyes grave with thought. "'Tis a strange, sad case," he said finally, "and the end is hard to determine. I believe you, Madame, and honor your choice. The case is strong against De Artigny; even your testimony is not for his defense. Does M. Cassion know you saw the young man that night?" "He has dropped a remark, or two, which shows suspicion. Possibly some one of the men saw me outside the Mission House, and made report."