"That was like enough, for my father was little averse to a quarrel, although he seldom made boast of it afterwards. And so this Hugo Chevet threatened me! I am not of the blood, Mademoiselle, to take such things lightly. Yet wait--why came you to me with such a tale? Have you no friends?" "None, Monsieur," I answered gravely, and regretfully, "other than the nuns to whom I went to school, and they are useless in such a case. I am an orphan under guardianship, and my whole life has been passed in this convent, and Chevet's cabin on the river. My mother died at my birth, my father was a soldier on the frontier, and I grew up alone among strangers. Scarcely have I met any save the rough boatmen, and those _couriers du bois_ in my uncle's employ. There was no one else but you, Monsieur--no one. 'Twas not immodesty which caused me to make this appeal, but a dire need. I am a helpless, friendless girl." "You trust me then?" "Yes, Monsieur; I believe you a man of honor." He walked across the room, once, twice, his head bent in thought, and I watched him, half frightened lest I had angered him. "Have I done very wrong, Monsieur?" He stopped, his eyes on my face. He must have perceived my perplexity, for he smiled again, and pressed my hand gently. "If so, the angels must judge," he answered stoutly. "As for me, I am very glad you do me this honor. I but seek the best plan of service, Mademoiselle, for I stand between you and this sacrifice with much pleasure. You shall not marry Cassion while I wear a sword; yet, faith! I am so much a man of action that I see no way out but by the strong arm. Is appeal to the Governor, to the judges impossible?" "He possesses influence now." "True enough; he is the kind La Barre finds useful, while I can scarce keep my head upon my shoulders here in New France. To be follower of La Salle is to be called traitor. It required the aid of every friend I had in Quebec to secure me card of admission to the ball tonight." "You attend, Monsieur?" "Unless they bar me at the sword point. Know you why I made the effort?" "No, Monsieur." "Your promise to be present. I had no wish otherwise." I felt the flush deepen on my cheeks and my eyes fell. "'Tis most kind of you to say so, Monsieur," was all I could falter. "Ay!" he interrupted, "we are both so alone in this New France 'tis well we help each other. I will find you a way out, Mademoiselle--perhaps this night; if not, then in the woods yonder. They are filled with secrets, yet have room to hide another." "But not violence, Monsieur!" "Planning and scheming is not my way, nor am I good at it. A soldier of La Salle needs more to understand action, and the De Artigny breed has ever had faith in steel. I seek no quarrel, yet if occasion arise this messenger of La Barre will find me quite ready. I know not what may occur. Mademoiselle; I merely pledge you my word of honor that Cassion will no longer seek your hand. The method you must trust to me."