"Come, Mademoiselle," he said, almost eagerly. "There is no reason for you to fear confiding in me. Surely I was never sent for without just reason. Let us sit here while you retell the story. Perchance we will play boy and girl again." "You remember that?" "Do I not!" he laughed pleasantly. "There were few pleasant memories I took with me into the wilderness, yet that was one. Ay, but we talked freely enough then, and there is naught since in my life to bring loss of faith. 'Tis my wish to serve you, be it with wit or blade." He bent lower, seeking the expression in my eyes. "This Hugo Chevet--he is a brute. I know--is his abuse beyond endurance?" "No, no," I hastened to explain. "In his way he is not unkind. The truth is he has lived so long in the woods alone, he scarcely speaks. He--he would marry me to Monsieur Cassion." Never will I forget the look of sheer delight on his face as these words burst from me. His hand struck the bench, and he tossed back the long hair from his forehead, his eyes merry with enjoyment. "Ah, good! By all the saints, 'tis even as I hoped. Then have no fear of my sympathy, Mademoiselle. Nothing could please me like a clash with that perfumed gallant. He doth persecute you with his wooing?" "He has not spoken, save to Chevet; yet it is seemingly all arranged without my being approached." "A coward's way. Chevet told you?" "Three days ago, Monsieur, after you were there, and Cassion had departed. It may have been that your being seen with me hastened the plan. I know not, yet the two talked together long, and privately, and when the Commissaire finally went away, Chevet called me in, and told me what had been decided." "That you were to marry that coxcomb?" "Yes; he did not ask me if I would; it was a command. When I protested my lack of love, saying even that I despised the man, he answered me with a laugh, insisting it was his choice, not mine, and that love had naught to do with such matters. Think you this Cassion has some hold on Hugo Chevet to make him so harsh?" "No doubt, they are hand in glove in the fur trade, and the Commissaire has La Barre's ear just now. He rode by yonder in the carriage a moment since, and you might think from his bows he was the Governor. And this marriage? when does it take place?" "On Monsieur's safe return from the great West." The smile came back to his face. "Not so bad that, for 'tis a long journey, and might be delayed. I travel with him, you know, and we depart at daybreak. What else did this Chevet have to say?" "Only a threat that if ever you came near me again his fingers would feel your throat, Monsieur. He spoke of hate between himself and your father." The eyes upon mine lost their tolerant smile, and grew darker, and I marked the fingers of his hand clinch.