We crept forward, so cautiously it seemed we scarcely moved, the rock shelf we traversed so narrow in places that I could scarce find space in which to plant my feet firmly. Boisrondet whispered words of guidance back to me, and I could feel De Artigny touch my skirt as he followed, ready to grip me if I fell. Yet then I experienced no fear, no shrinking, my every thought centered on the task. Nor was the way long. Suddenly we clambered onto a flat rock, crossed it, and came to the edge of a wood, with a murmur of water not far away. Here Boisrondet paused, and we came close about him. There seemed to be more light here, although the tree shadows were grim, and the night rested about us in impressive silence. "Here is where the river trail comes down," and Boisrondet made motion to the left. "You should remember that well, Rene." "I was first to pass over it; it leads to the water edge." "Yes; not so easily followed in the night, yet you are woodsman enough to make it. So far as we know from above the Iroquois have not discovered there is a passage here. Listen, Rene; I leave you now, for those were De Tonty's orders. He said that from now on you would be safe alone. Of course he knew nothing of Madame's purpose." "Monsieur shall not find me a burden," I interrupted. "I am sure of that," he said gallantly, "and so think it best to return while the night conceals my movements. There will be hot words when M. Cassion discovers your escape, and my chief may need my sword beside him, if it comes to blows. Is my decision to return right, Rene?" "Ay, right; would that I might be with you. But what plan did M. de Tonty outline for me to follow?" "'Twas what I started to tell. At the edge of the water, but concealed from the river by rocks, is a small hut where we keep hidden a canoe ready fitted for any secret service. 'Twas Sieur de la Salle's thought that it might prove of great use in time of siege. No doubt it is there now just as we left it, undiscovered of the Iroquois. This will bear you down the river until daylight, when you can hide along shore." "There is a rifle?" "Two of them, with powder and ball." He laid his hand on the other's shoulder. "There is nothing more to say, and time is of value. Farewell, my friend." "Farewell," their fingers clasped. "There will be other days, Francois; my gratitude to M. de Tonty." Boisrondet stepped back, and, hat in hand, bowed to me. "Adieu, Madame; a pleasant journey." "A moment, Monsieur," I said, a falter in my voice. "You are M. de Artigny's friend, an officer of France, and a Catholic." "Yes, Madame." "And you think that I am right in my choice? that I am doing naught unworthy of my womanhood?" Even in the darkness I saw him make the symbol of the cross, before he bent forward and kissed my hand.