"Ay! the witchery of it; 'tis like a haunting spirit." "Which did not haunt long, I warrant. I am Adele la Chesnayne, Monsieur." He stepped back, his eyes on mine, questioningly. For an instant I believed the name even brought no familiar sound; then his face brightened, and his eyes smiled, as his lips echoed the words. "Adele la Chesnayne! Ay! now I know. Why 'tis no less than a miracle. It was a child I thought of under that name--a slender, brown-eyed girl, as blithesome as a bird. No, I had not forgotten; only the magic of three years has made of you a woman. Again and again have I questioned in Montreal and Quebec, but no one seemed to know. At the convent they said your father fell in Indian skirmish." "Yes; ever since then I have lived here, with my uncle, Hugo Chevet." "Here!" he looked about, as though the dreariness of it was first noticed. "Alone? Is there no other woman?" I shook my head, but no longer looked at him, for fear he might see the tears in my eyes. "I am the housekeeper, Monsieur. There was nothing else for me. In France, I am told, my father's people were well born, but this is not France, and there was no choice. Besides I was but a child of fourteen." "And seventeen, now, Mademoiselle," and he took my hand gallantly. "Pardon if I have asked questions which bring pain. I can understand much, for in Montreal I heard tales of this Hugo Chevet." "He is rough, a woodsman," I defended, "yet not unkind to me. You will speak him fair?" He laughed, his eyes sparkling with merriment. "No fear of my neglecting all courtesy, for I come beseeching a favor. I have learned the lesson of when the soft speech wins more than the iron hand. And this other, the Commissaire Cassion--is he a bird of the same plumage?" I made a little gesture, and glanced back at the closed door. "Oh, no; he is the court courtier, to stab with words, not deeds. Chevet is rough of speech, and hard of hand, but he fights in the open; Cassion has a double tongue, and one never knows him." I glanced up into his sobered face. "He is a friend of La Barre." "So 'tis said, and has been chosen by the governor to bear message to De Baugis in the Illinois country. I seek passage in his company." "You! I thought you were of the party of Sieur de la Salle?" "I am," he answered honestly, "yet Cassion will need a guide, and there is none save myself in all New France who has ever made that journey. 'Twill be well for him to listen to my plan. And why not? We do not fight the orders of the governor: we obey, and wait. Monsieur de la Salle will tell his story to the King." "The King! to Louis?" "Ay, 'twill not be the first time he has had audience, and already he is at sea. We can wait, and laugh at this Cassion over his useless journey." "But he--he is treacherous, Monsieur." He laughed, as though the words amused.