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"I have never seen this other world. I know nothing of it, except as I have been taught. I have no right to hate it, and yet I do. I have never wanted to see it. I have never cared to know the people who lived in it. I wish that I could understand, but I cannot; except that father has made for us, for Pierre and Otille and me, this little world at Fort o' God, and has taught us to fear the other.
He choked back the groaning cry that rose to his lips. It was not Otille who passed him. It was Jeanne. In another moment she was gone. The man had shoved his canoe into the narrow stream, and was already lost in the gloom. Then, and not until then, did the cry of torture fall from Philip.
Jeanne left her father's arms and gave her hand to Philip. "M'sieur Philip, this is my sister, Mademoiselle Couchee," she cried. Pierre's sister gave Philip her hand, and behind them D'Arcambal laughed softly in his beard again, and said: "To-morrow, in D'Arcambal House, you may call her Otille, Philip. But to-night we are in Fort o' God. Oh, Jeanne, Jeanne, what a witch you are!"
He discovered, too, that Pierre was observing these things, and that there was something forced in the half-breed's cheerfulness. But D'Arcambal and Otille seemed completely oblivious of any change. Their happiness overflowed. Philip thought of his last supper at Churchill, with Eileen Brokaw and her father.
"Jeanne owes you an apology and an explanation, M'sieur Philip," said D'Arcambal, resting a hand upon Jeanne's head. "We are going to retire, and she will initiate you into the fold of Fort o' God." Pierre and Otille followed him from the room. For the first time in an hour Jeanne laughed frankly at Philip. "There isn't much to explain, M'sieur Philip," she said, rising from her seat.
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