"Yes, Monsieur." De Baugis' eyes seemed to darken as he gazed at me; then his glance fell upon Cassion, who was leaning forward, his mouth open, his face ashen gray. He straightened up as he met De Baugis' eyes, and gave vent to an irritating laugh. "_Sacre_, 'tis quite melodramatic," he exclaimed harshly. "But of little value else. I acknowledge the letter, M. de Baugis, but it bears no relation to this affair. Perchance it was unhappily worded, so that this woman, eager to save her lover from punishment--" De Tonty was on his feet, his sword half drawn. "'Tis a foul lie," he thundered hotly. "I will not stand silent before such words." "Messieurs," and De Baugis struck the table. "This is a court, not a mess room. Be seated, M. de Tonty; no one in my presence will be permitted to besmirch the honor of Captain la Chesnayne's daughter. Yet I must agree with Major Cassion that this letter in no way proves that he resorted to violence, or was even urged to do so. The governor in all probability suggested other means. I could not be led to believe he countenanced the commission of crime, and shall ask to read the remainder of his letter before rendering decision. You found no other documents, Madame?" "None bearing on this case." "The papers supposed to be taken from the dead body of Chevet?" "No, Monsieur." "Then I cannot see that the status of the prisoner is changed, or that we have any reason to charge the crime to another. You are excused, Madame, while we listen to such other witnesses as may be called." "You wish me to retire?" "I would prefer you do so." I arose to my feet, hesitating and uncertain. It was evident enough that the court intended to convict the prisoner. All the hatred and dislike engendered by years of controversy with La Salle, all the quarrels and misunderstandings of the past few months between the two rival commanders at the fort, was now finding natural outlet in this trial of Rene de Artigny. He was officer of La Salle, friend of De Tonty, and through his conviction they could strike at the men they both hated and feared. More, they realized also that such action would please La Barre. Whatever else had been accomplished by my exhibit of the governor's letter, it had clearly shown De Baugis that his master desired the overthrow of the young explorer. And while he felt slight friendship for Cassion, he was still La Barre's man, and would obey his orders. He wished me out of the way for a purpose. What purpose? That I might not hear the lying testimony of those soldiers and Indians, who would swear as they were told. Tears misted my eyes, so the faces about me were blurred, but, before I could find words in which to voice my indignation, De Tonty stood beside me, and grasped my arm. "There is no use, Madame," he said coldly enough, although his voice shook. "You only invite insult when you deal with such curs. They represent their master, and have made verdict already--let us go."