"And what is that to you, may I ask, Sieur de Artigny?" he said, coldly contemptuous. "You are but our guide, and it is no concern of yours who may compose the company. 'Twill be well for you to remember your place, and attend to your duties. Go now, and see that the men have breakfast served." There was a moment of silence, and I did not even venture to glance up to perceive what occurred, although I felt that De Artigny's eyes shifted their inquiry from Cassion's face to mine. There must be no quarrel now, not until he knew the truth, not until I had opportunity to explain, and yet he was a firebrand, and it would be like him to resent such words. How relieved I felt, as his voice made final answer. "Pardon, Monsieur le Commissaire," he said, pleasantly enough. "It is true I forgot my place in this moment of surprise. I obey your orders." I looked up as he turned away, and disappeared. Cassion stared after him, smothering an oath, and evidently disappointed at so tame an ending of the affair, for it was his nature to bluster and boast. Yet as his lips changed to a grin, I knew of what the man was thinking--he had mistaken De Artigny's actions for cowardice, and felt assured now of how he would deal with him. He turned to the canoe, a new conception of importance in the sharp tone of his voice. "Come ashore, men; ay! draw the boat higher on the sand. Now, Monsieur Chevet, assist your niece forward to where I can help her to land with dry feet--permit me, Adele." "It is not at all necessary, Monsieur," I replied, avoiding his hand, and leaping lightly to the firm sand. "I am no dainty maid of Quebec to whom such courtesy is due." I stood and faced him, not unpleased to mark the anger in his eyes. "Not always have you shown yourself so considerate." "Why blame me for the act of La Barre?" "The act would never have been considered had you opposed it, Monsieur. It was your choice, not the Governor's." "I would wed you--yes; but that is no crime. But let us understand each other. Those were harsh words you spoke in anger in the room yonder." "They were not in anger." "But surely--" "Monsieur, you have forced me into marriage; the law holds me as your wife. I know not how I may escape that fate, or avoid accompanying you. So far I submit, but no farther. I do not love you; I do not even feel friendship toward you. Let me pass." He grasped my arm, turning me about until I faced him, his eyes glaring into mine. "Not until I speak," he replied threateningly. "Do not mistake my temper, or imagine me blind. I know what has so suddenly changed you--it is that gay, simpering fool yonder. But be careful how far you go. I am your husband, and in authority here." "Monsieur, your words are insult; release your hand." "So you think to deceive! Bah! I am too old a bird for that, or to pay heed to such airs. I have seen girls before, and a mood does not frighten me. But listen now--keep away from De Artigny unless you seek trouble."