It was not that I already loved him, yet ever since girlhood the memory of him had remained in my thought, and in those years since I had met so few young men that the image left on my imagination had never faded. Indeed, it had been kept alive by the very animosity which my uncle cherished against Monsieur de la Salle. The real cause of his bitterness, outside of trade rivalry, I never clearly understood, but he was ever seeking every breath of gossip from that distant camp of adventurers, and angrily commenting thereon. Again and again I overheard him conspiring with others in a vain effort to influence Frontenac to withdraw his support of that distant expedition, and it was this mutual enmity which first brought Cassion to our cabin. With Frontenac's removal, and the appointment of La Barre as Governor, the hopes of La Salle's enemies revived, and when Cassion's smooth tongue won him a place as Commissaire, all concerned became more bold and confident in their planning. I knew little of it, yet sufficient to keep the remembrance of those adventures fresh in my mind, and never did they recur to me without yielding me vision of the ardent young face of De Artigny as he waved me adieu from the canoe. Often in those years of silence did I dream of him amid the far-off wilderness--the idle dreaming of a girl whose own heart was yet a mystery--and many a night I sat at my window gazing out upon the broad river shimmering in the moonlight, wondering at those wilderness mysteries among which he lived. Yet only once in all those years had I heard mention of his name. 'Twas but a rumor floating back to us of how La Salle had reached the mouth of a great river flowing into the South Sea, and among the few who accompanied him was De Artigny. I remember yet how strangely my heart throbbed as I heard the brief tale retold, and someone read the names from a slip of paper. Chevet sat by the open fire listening, his pipe in his mouth, his eyes scowling at the news; suddenly he blurted out: "De Artigny, say you? In the name of the fiend! 'tis not the old captain?" "No, no, Chevet," a voice answered testily, "Sieur Louis de Artigny has not stepped foot on ground these ten years; 'tis his brat Rene who serves this freebooter, though 'tis like enough the father hath money in the venture." And they fell to discussing, sneering at the value of the discovery, while I slipped unnoticed from the room.