"And leave me?" "The present is life," he reminded her. "The thought of the future may destroy the happiness of the present." "What would you have me do--obey my conscience or my heart?" "Both," she sighed. "Let us talk of it in the morning." "Now. Oh, the spider is spinning faster--faster." "The morning," he repeated. "Now," she breathed. "But soft! Set your lips to this hole, and you shall find my ear." A sound of restless movement came from Madame's room, and a grating voice: "From witchcraft, enchantment, and heresy our Lady and the holy saints protect us." It was her lips that Madeleine placed to the hole in the wattle wall. CHAPTER XIV. FIRESIDE AND GROVE. Ambition and not chance had brought La Salle thus far from the beaten track. He had made it his policy to pursue the Englishmen in that land until he should have brought about their extermination, knowing well that any success in that direction would be rewarded by the richest gift which his master Richelieu had to bestow. From Onawa he learnt of Viner's departure for the south on the day following that venture against New Windsor. The girl had discovered the young man's track and gladly accompanied the priest, pointing out the trail, which was imperceptible to his untrained eyes, and so bringing him to the grove where Geoffrey tarried in the enchanted sleep. After Madame Labroquerie had gone to find him food, La Salle reconsidered his plans by the light of her information. It was no way of his to hide his light beneath a bushel, and the slaying of Viner in that lonely country would, he reasoned, bring him little fame. If, however, he should return to lodge the information with Roussilac, all men would know of his agency. Therefore, when Madame returned, he impressed upon her the necessity of detaining Viner for at least three days within the grove. "'Tis easy," the little woman muttered. "I shall be courteous to the young man, and praise his face and flatter his pride. Madeleine, my daughter, shall do the rest. I warrant you he shall not stir from here till the soldiers arrive; and then, I trust, a stake shall be prepared and a goodly pile of faggots for the proper despatch of his heretic soul." "I shall see that execution be done upon him," La Salle replied grimly. "Now get you gone, for I would be alone." "Your holiness will remain until the morning," Madame prayed. "I would then make my confession, and receive the peace of absolution." "Find me here at the dawn," La Salle answered. Then, uplifting his blood-stained hand, he bestowed upon her his benediction and sent her away.