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"But it is never best to try a man too far." "You try me too far, let me tell you that. But you shall try me no further." The Indian appeared distinctly on his softer French features, as one picture may be stamped over another. "Smoke a pipe, Louizon," urged the thorn in his flesh. "You are always so much more agreeable when your mouth is stopped."
It must have been midnight when Archange sat up in bed, startled out of sleep by her mother-in-law, who held a candle between the curtains. Madame Cadotte's features were of a mild Chippewa type, yet the restless aboriginal eye made Archange uncomfortable with its anxiety. "Louizon is still away," said his mother. "Perhaps he went whitefishing after he had his supper."
"The man I would have you look at, madame, you scarcely notice." "Why should I notice him? He pays little attention to me." "Ah, he is not one of your danglers, madame. He would not look at another man's wife. He has had trouble himself." "So will you have if you scorch the backs of your legs," observed Archange. Louizon stood obstinately on the stool and ignored the heat.
A canoe was missing from the little fleet usually tied alongshore, but it was not the one belonging to Louizon. The young seignior took that one, having Jean Boucher and Jean's son to paddle for him. No other man of Sault Ste. Marie could pole up the rapids or paddle down them as this expert Chippewa could.
"Archange Cadotte," said Louizon, turning around on the stool before he descended; and she spread out her skirts, taking two dancing steps to indicate that she heard him. "How long am I to be mortified by your conduct to Monsieur de Repentigny?" "Oh Monsieur de Repentigny. It is now that boy from France, at whom I have never looked."
Archange pushed the sashes shut, ready for other diversion, and Michel Pensonneau never failed to furnish her that. The little boy was at the widow's heels. Michel was an orphan. "If Archange had children," Madame Cadotte had said to Louizon, "she would not seek other amusement. Take the little Pensonneau lad that his grandmother can hardly feed. He will give Archange something to do."
But now we can take her back to the priest, and they will let her alone when they see you. Where is your canoe?" "Down here among the bushes," answered Louizon. He went to get it, ashamed to look the young seignior in the face. He was light-headed from hunger and exposure, and what followed seemed to him afterwards a piteous dream. "Come back!" called the young seignior, and Louizon turned back.
I only desire to have a new man in love with me every day." Her mischievous mouth was a scarlet button in her face, and Louizon leaped to the floor, and kicked the stool across the room. "The devil himself is no match at all for you!" "But I married him before I knew that," returned Archange; and Louizon grinned in his wrath. "I don't like such women." "Oh yes, you do.
Yes, and they shall be English, too. And there is one thing you will never know, besides." She laughed through her weeping. "You will never know I made eyes at a windigo." The preenings and posings of a creature whose perfections he once thought were the result of a happy chance had made Louizon roar.
She returned to the high window sill, and watched the purple distances growing black. She could smell the tobacco the men were smoking in the open hall, and hear their voices. Archange knew what her mother-in-law was giving the young seignior and Louizon for their supper.
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