The rest of the week passed quickly, in one sense, though every hour of it dragged for me. I was burning with impatience to hear M. de Sarennes speak some word of his intended departure, and yet could not bring myself to put the ungracious question, when I saw the dear pleasure his stay meant to his mother. Never had I seen more tender, respectful attention than that with which he surrounded her. He would sit by her for hours listening to her tales of his father, or relating his own adventures and successes against the English. "Have a care, my son," she would say, with an anxiety, not unmixed with pride; "they will not forget these things. They may try to work us evil for them some day." "No fear, ma mere! not while I am by to defend you," he would answer, with a protecting love that redeemed his confidence from bravado. He accompanied Angelique and me on all our walks, explaining to us the simpler mysteries of his wonderful woodcraft, and keenly enjoying our ready admiration. But my mind was uneasy. With the assuredness of a man accustomed to facile conquest, he pressed his attentions upon me in a manner to which I was unaccustomed, greatly to my embarrassment. No woman of my day could, in ordinary circumstances, be at a loss to interpret any attentions she might receive. In our world, gallantry was a science well understood; as exact as war, its every move had its meaning; its rules were rigidly defined, and no one ever thought of transgressing them; so there reigned a freedom which made society a pleasure, and the intercourse with men was exactly what one chose it should be. But now, I was brought face to face with a man who, whatever might be his birth, had neither breeding nor education; who was accustomed to see his desire and attain it, if possible; who could not understand that freedom was a compliment to his quality, not an acknowledgment of his personality; and who, in consequence, misinterpreted mere courtesies in a sense humiliating to the bestower. Our life was necessarily so intimate, my need of his good-will so great, and my regard for his mother and sister so warm, that I was bound to conceal my annoyance; but at length he forced me to a declaration, when, hoping that frankness might avail me better than evasion, I spake so plainly that I left him in no doubt as to the manner in which I received his attentions. He resented it with all the bitterness of a man unaccustomed to rebuke, and my heart failed me as I thought of the weeks I must pass in his company. This made me the more anxious to push matters to a conclusion, and my opportunity came one afternoon, when Angelique snapped the end of her snow-shoe, and was forced to return, leaving us to finish our walk together. We moved on in silence for some time before I could summon up courage to venture the question on which I felt so much depended. "Have you decided on your return to Louisbourg, monsieur?"