A deep red stained the girl’s cheeks. “Oh,” she cried. “I must know why he seeks me. The Captain Brito want to marry me for what has come to me. This one--this one--Is he, too, base? Does he, too, seek me because I have great possessions? If he finds out who I am I shall never learn. If he does not find out----” The French woman chuckled. “And the wise young man does not guess that you are a woman!” she cried, holding up her hands. “Ah! Quelle bétise. Eh! bien, I see well it is too late to talk of chaperones now. Have no fear, ma petite! I will not tell him. He seems a good young man--as men go. I read it in his eyes. But truly he is a great fool.” But at this the girl grew suddenly angry. “He is no fool,” she cried. “He is----” “All men are fools,” quoth the French woman, sagely. “You will find it so in time. Go your way, cherie! Fantine Loire will not betray you. And, remember, her house is ever open to you. Come back to her when you will. Tonight you will sleep here, in this room of my own son, now with the blessed saints. And now--Mother of God! I must fly or M. Jack will be mad with the hunger. And, cherie, remember this! Men are not well to deal with when they are hungry. Feed them, ma cherie! Feed them!” She rushed away, leaving Alagwa alone. How the girl got through dinner she never knew. After it, when Major Stickney returned, bringing Captain Wells, a tall, grave man, she pleaded fatigue and left him and Jack to talk with each other and with the men in the hotel, while she slipped away to the room that Madame Fantine had prepared for her. Till late that night she and the kindly French woman sat up and talked. Even when left alone the girl did not sleep. Her duty to Tecumseh lay heavy on her soul. She must send him the information in her possession or she must confess herself a coward and a traitor to her people. Yet she shrank from it. Not for the sake of the men in the fort! She hated them all, she told herself. Gladly would she slay them all. And not for the sake of the Bondies. She had learned enough that night to feel sure that they would be safe from any Indian attack. No! Her hesitation came from another cause. What would Jack say when he knew that she was a spy? Insistently the question drummed into her ears. What would he say? What would he do? She pressed her fingers to her hot eyeballs, but the pressure did not dim the vision of his eyes, stricken blank with anger and with shame. And yet she must send Tecumseh word. She must! She had promised to keep the faith, to do her duty regardless of consequences to herself. She had visioned death as her punishment and had been ready to face it. She had not visioned the torture of Jack’s hurt eyes. For a moment they seemed to her harder to face than the stake and the flame. But should she stop for this--stop because the penalty was heavier than she had thought? Never.