"You fear the end?" "It may be so; you play with fire, and although I know little of women, yet I have felt the wild passions of men in lands where there is no restraint of law. The wilderness sees many tragedies--fierce, bitter, revengeful deeds--and 'tis best you use care. 'Tis my belief this Francois Cassion might prove a devil, once his heart was tricked. Have you thought of this?" I had thought of it, but with no mercy in my heart, yet as De Artigny spoke I felt the ugliness of my threat more acutely, and, for an instant, stood before him white-lipped, and ashamed. Then before me arose Cassion's face, sarcastic, supercilious, hateful, and I laughed in scorn of the warning. "Thought of it!" I exclaimed, "yes, but for that I care nothing. Why should I, Monsieur? Has the man shown mercy to me, that I should feel regret because he suffers? As to his revenge, death is not more to be dreaded than a lifetime passed in his presence. But why do you make plea on his behalf--the man is surely no friend of yours?" "I make no plea for him," he answered, strangely sober, "and claim no friendship. Any enemy to La Salle is an enemy to Rene de Artigny; but I would front him as a man should. It is not my nature to do a deed of treachery." "You hold this treachery?" "What else? You propose luring him to love you, that you may gain confession from his lips. To attain this end you barter your honesty, your womanhood; you take advantage of your beauty to enslave him; you count as ally the loneliness of the wilderness; ay! and, if I understand aright, you hope through me to awaken the man's jealousy. Is this not true?" I drew a quick breath, my eyes staring into his face, and my limbs trembling. His words cut me like a knife, yet I would not yield, would not even acknowledge their truth. "You are unjust, unfair," I burst forth impetuously. "You will see but the one side--that of the man. I cannot fight this battle with my hands, nor will I submit to such wrong without struggle. He has never thought to spare me, and there is no reason why I should show him mercy. I wish your good will, Monsieur, your respect, but I cannot hold this plan which I propose as evil. Do you?" He hesitated, looking at me with such perplexity in his eyes as to prove his doubt. "I cannot judge you," he admitted at last, "only that is not the way in which I have been trained. Neither will I stand between you and your revenge, nor have part in it. I am your friend--now, always. In every honorable way I will serve you, and your cause. If Cassion dares violence, or insult he must reckon with me, though I faced his whole company. I pledge you this, but I will not play a part, or act a lie even at your request." "You mean you will not pretend to care for me?" I asked, my heart leaden at his words.