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Updated: June 6, 2025
There was a name pinned to your clothes, and a locket and chain about your neck and a tiny ring on one finger. And on your thigh were two letters, 'J. A., which meant Jeanne Angelot, Father Rameau said. And oh, Mam'selle, petite fille, you slept in my arms all night and in the morning you were as hungry as some wild thing.
I do not wonder now that you have taken so much of my father's heart." "We can give you but poor accommodations; still it will not be for long, as we go up North to accept our cousin's hospitality. You will be delighted to meet the Sieur Angelot. The Fleury family will be glad to see you again, though they have no such luxuriant hospitality as before."
She, too, said, "What is it?" but her voice had a soft, lingering cadence. Jeanne explained meeting M. Fleury and his message, but her manner was shy and hesitating. "Oh, then you are Jeanne Angelot, I suppose?" half assertion, half inquiry. "Yes, Mademoiselle," and she folded her hands. "I think I remember you as a little child.
Jeanne came from the room where she had been listening to her mother's story of self-blame and present abhorrence for the step she had so unwisely taken in yielding to one who should have been nothing to her. "But you loved him then!" cried Jeanne, vehemently, thinking of the other woman whose joy and pride was centered in the Sieur Angelot. "It was a sinful fancy, a temptation of the evil one.
Jeanne pulled her out with her strong young arms, and tried to slip a gown over the shaking figure that opposed her efforts. "I will not go," she cried. "I know, you want to take me away from dear old Detroit. I heard something the Sieur Angelot said. O Jeanne, the good Father in Heaven sent you back once. Do not go again " "The street is all on fire.
"O Jeanne Angelot, you think yourself some great things because you live inside the stockade and go to a school where they teach all manner of lies to the children. Your place is out in some Indian wigwam. You're half Indian, anyhow." "Look at us!"
"Such marriages are a disgrace to the nation," said Madame Fleury, severely. "And that recalls to my mind, " St. Armand paused with a retrospective smile, thinking of the compliment his little friend had paid him, "to inquire if you know anything about a child who lives not far from the lower citadel, in the care of an Indian woman. Her name is Jeanne Angelot."
Then they moved toward the dining room. M. Fleury took in Jeanne as the honored guest, and seated her at his right. The Sieur Angelot was beside the hostess. The conversation in the nature of the startling incidents was largely personal and between the two men. Mam'selle Fleury was deeply interested in the adventures of the Sieur Angelot, detailed with spirit and vivacity.
But he persevered until he obtained a grant from Congress, and set to work rectifying wrongs that had crept in, reorganizing the courts, and revising property deeds. The old Fort was repaired, the barracks put in better shape, the garrison augmented. But the event the Sieur Angelot had feared and foreseen, came to pass.
But he was not long in learning that Jeanne Angelot had not only dislike but a sort of fear and hatred for the young man; and that nothing was farther from her thoughts. Yet he wondered a little that the fortune and adoration did not tempt her. "Well, well, my child, we shall not be sorry to have you left in old Detroit.
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