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Updated: June 5, 2025
I will see you through safely, and we will not spare the tafia either." And he began to sing a song of Xavier's own: "'Marianson, dame jolie, Ou est alle votre mari?" "Ah, toujours les dames!" said Xavier. "But I tell you, Michie, le diable, he is at ze bottom of ze Grand Gulf and his mouth open so." And he suited the action to the word.
Marianson was tender even in her amusements; her benevolence extended to dumb cattle; but in the hidden darkness of her consciousness she found herself choosing the Sioux for him, rather than a woman. Once he half raised his head, but again let it sink to its rest. Marianson grew faint; and as the light waned at the cave mouth she remembered she had not eaten anything that day.
But Marianson knew well the tricks of that brook its pellucid shining on pebbles, its cascades, its hidings underground of all but a voice and a crystal pool. Wet to her knees, she had more than once followed it to its source amid such greenery of moss and logs as seemed a conflagration of verdure.
"You cannot go out now," he whispered, when he saw her intention. "The Sioux is somewhere in the woods watching for me. The Indians came on this island for scalps. You will not be safe, even in the fort, until the fight is over, or until night comes again." Marianson, standing convinced by what he said, was unable to take her eyes off him.
This lad, whose presence she knew she would feel without seeing if he came into church behind her, innocent of the spell he was casting, still sat guarding the entrance, though the droop of utter weariness relaxed every posture. Marianson bade him lie down on the fur robe, and imperiously arranged her lap to hold his head. "I am maman to you. I say to you sleep, and you shall sleep."
It proved as fair a day as the island had ever seen, and when it was nearly spent, Marianson Bruelle still sat on the cave floor holding the dead boy in her arms. Heart-uprooting was a numbness, like rapture. At least he could not leave her. She had his kiss, his love. She had his body, to hide in a grave as secret as a flower's.
Marianson, who had helped it drift, lay flat on the bottom and heard the rueful oaths of her enemies, forced to march back to the post. There was no sail. She steered by a trailing oar until lighted distillery and black cliff receded and it was safe for her to fix her sculls and row with all her might.
Marianson turned and looked at the water he must venture upon, without a sail to help him. It was not all uncovered from the night, but a long purple current ran out, as if God had made a sudden amethyst bridge across the blue strait. Reluctant as she was to call him from the cave, she dared not delay. The breath of the virgin woods was overpoweringly sweet.
I will see you through safely, and we will not spare the tafia either." And he began to sing a song of Xavier's own: "'Marianson, dame jolie, Ou est alle votre mari?" "Ah, toujours les dames!" said Xavier. "But I tell you, Michie, le diable, he is at ze bottom of ze Grand Gulf and his mouth open so." And he suited the action to the word.
He may come back by morning, but he would not camp away from so much plunder. Sioux cannot be unlike our Chippewas. Do you think," demanded Marianson, "that you will be quite, quite safe in the cave?" Her companion laughed. "If I find the cave unsafe I can leave it; but you in the dark alone you must let me go with you." "No; the risk is too great. It is better for me to go alone.
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