Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 27, 2025
I got to my feet, not knowing what I could do, yet with a wild conception of returning to the beach, and seeking to find a passage southward. I would go now along the shore, before De Artigny came back, and meet those returning canoes.
De Tonty remained beside me, his hand resting on my chair back, as he coolly surveyed the scene. Cassion pushed past, and occupied a vacant chair, between the other officers, laying his sword on the table. My eyes swept about the circle of faces seeking De Artigny, but he was not present. But for a slight shuffling of feet, the silence was oppressive.
For hours I lay alone, listening to the dull roar of waves along the shore, and the wind in the trees. De Artigny, and his party, camped just beyond us, across the mouth of a narrow stream, but I saw nothing of him, nor do I believe I gave his presence a thought. It was scarcely more than daybreak when we broke camp, and headed our canoes out into the lake.
The canoes kept closer together, never venturing to become separated, and the men stationed on watch in the bows continually called to each other across the tossing waters in guidance. Even De Artigny kept within sight, and made camp with us at night, although he made no effort to seek me, nor did I once detect that he even glanced in my direction.
"So you think to deceive! Bah! I am too old a bird for that, or to pay heed to such airs. I have seen girls before, and a mood does not frighten me. But listen now keep away from De Artigny unless you seek trouble." "What mean you by that threat?" "You will learn to your sorrow; the way we travel is long, and I am woodsman as well as soldier. You will do well to heed my words."
In spite of my promise to Cassion I was here alone with De Artigny, helpless to escape his presence, or to be indifferent for the service he had rendered me. Nor had I slightest wish to escape.
Not a sound awoke the echoes, and the horror I had just witnessed seemed almost a dream. "Where are they now?" I questioned faintly. "Have they gone back to their own country?" "Small hope of that," answered De Artigny, "or we would have met with them before this, or other signs of their passage. They are below, either at the fort, or planning attack on the Indian villages beyond.
I saw the hand of the younger man close on the knife hilt at his belt, but was quick enough to avert the hot words burning his lips. "A bit rough, Monsieur Cassion," I cried laughing merrily, even as I released my arm. "Why so much haste? I was near falling, and it was but courtesy which led the Sieur de Artigny to extend me his hand. It does not please me for you to be ever seeking a quarrel."
These were the two questions haunting my mind, and becoming more and more insistent. The light still burned in the mission house, and I could picture the scene within the three priests reading, or talking softly to each other, and Cassion asleep on his bench in the corner, wearied with the day. I could not understand, could not imagine a cause, and yet the assassin must have been De Artigny.
Rene, you have walked this path before." "Ay, years since, but I recall its peril." We crept forward, so cautiously it seemed we scarcely moved, the rock shelf we traversed so narrow in places that I could scarce find space in which to plant my feet firmly. Boisrondet whispered words of guidance back to me, and I could feel De Artigny touch my skirt as he followed, ready to grip me if I fell.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking