She stood biting her lips and smiling to herself in half-satiric, half-whimsical fashion. "It says little for my intelligence that I was unprepared. You are a man, not a courtier. I should have known that you would not waste an hour. I wish that I might go with you." "Madame, I wish it, too." She looked up more briskly. "But that would be impossible. Have you instructions for me, monsieur?" "Madame, if you are afraid, come with me." "I am not afraid if you say that it is safe, monsieur." "Thank you, madame. I think that it is entirely safe. Pierre is a good deal of a fool and more of a knave, but in some few respects there is no one like him; he is a rock. You are my wife and in his charge. He will guard you absolutely." "Are we in danger of attack?" "I can imagine no possible reason for attack, else I should not leave you. The Indians are friendly. One thing troubles me. Your cousin---- Should"---- She looked up. "Should Lord Starling find me?" she completed. "Well, he would tarry here until you came. He would at least show that courtesy. I can promise as much as that for the family name, monsieur." I smiled at her. "I shall await the meeting," I said with unction. I motioned Labarthe to the paddle, and I kissed the woman's hand. "I salute your courage. I shall see you within the week, madame." She looked straight at me. "And until then, good fortune." But I paused. "Wish me opportunity. That is all that I ask from you or of you,--opportunity. Good-by for a week, madame." CHAPTER XVIII IN WHICH I USE OPPORTUNITY I squatted beside many camp fires in the next week. I sat in the flattened cones of the Chippewas' tepees and smoked innumerable pipes of rank tobacco with the old men. I traded some, but talked more, and at the end of the week I started home. I waited for a pleasant day and a westerly wind, for the small canoe was perilously laden with skins. There was scarcely room for Labarthe and myself to crowd down on our knees and use our paddles. We slipped into Sturgeon Cove late in the afternoon, and swept with the wind up the stretches of the bay to the camping ground. Summer was at flood tide, and the air was pungent and the leaves shining. The sunset shone through tattered ends of cloud, so that the west was hung with crimson banners. It was my first homecoming.