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The point of his sword was at De Artigny's breast, but the younger man stood motionless, his lips smiling, his eyes on the other's face. "Perchance, Monsieur," he said quietly, "it might be best for you first to speak with this friend of mine." "What friend? Sacre! What is the fellow to me? Who is he? another one of La Salle's spawn?"
I reached out, and touched Barbeau; I heard the sudden roar of De Artigny's voice, the sharp report of the soldier's rifle. The flame cut the dark as though it was the blade of a knife, and, in the swift red glare, I saw a savage fling up his arms and fall headlong. Then all was chaos, confusion, death.
So dark was the night I was obliged to trust entirely to De Artigny's guidance, but it was evident that both men were familiar with the way, and had thoroughly considered the best method of escape. No doubt De Tonty and his young lieutenant had arranged all details, so as to assure success.
De Artigny was my lover, not in mere lip service, but in fact. I was not ashamed, but proud, to know this was true. The only thing of which I was ashamed was my relationship with Cassion; and my only thought now was how that relationship could be ended, and De Artigny's life saved.
What obstinacy compelled Cassion to keep us at the task I know not perchance a dislike to yield to De Artigny's advice but the sergeant swore to himself, and turned the prow of our canoe inward, hugging the shore as closely as he dared, his anxious eyes searching every rift in the mist.
You must not seek a quarrel, for I am not afraid truly I am not; you will listen " There was a voice speaking in the office room behind, the closing of a door, and the scraping of a chair as someone sat down. My words ceased, and we stood silent in the shadow, my grasp still on De Artigny's arm.
Could they have already gone? Was it possible that they merely dropped this brief message, and instantly vanished? No, the cord still dangled; somewhere in that dense gloom, the two men peered over the roof edge waiting my response. "Monsieur," I called up softly, unable to restrain my eagerness. "Yes, Madame," it was De Artigny's voice, although a mere whisper. "You have some word for me?"
Go now, and see that the men have breakfast served." There was a moment of silence, and I did not even venture to glance up to perceive what occurred, although I felt that De Artigny's eyes shifted their inquiry from Cassion's face to mine.
As I rested there, oppressed by the loneliness, I felt little hope that the others of our party had escaped without disaster. De Artigny's words of cheer had been spoken merely to encourage me, to make me less despondent. Deep down in his heart the man doubted the possibility of those frail canoes withstanding the violence of the storm.
The rifle in De Artigny's hand was but a twisted bar of iron; this renegade's only weapon was a murderous knife, its point reddened with blood. What word was said, I know not, but I saw De Artigny fling his bar aside, and draw the knife at his belt. Mon Dieu! I could not look; I know not how they fought; I hid my eyes and prayed.
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