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She was a little weary of the wildness and loneliness of dense woods and great hills and banks of the river, that roared and shrieked at times as if ghost-haunted. Wanamee's stories had touched the superstitious threads of her brain. M. Giffard took the Sieur's arm and drew him a trifle aside. Destournier offered his to the lady and assisted her up the rocky steep.
She drew away the hand he held, and gently pushed the Indian woman forward, going out of the clear sound of her voice. Oh, would it be a great sorrow to him? Wanamee's recital of that last night set a halo about Rose in the man's mind.
Over the river hung trailing clouds of misty sheen, there was a musical lapping of the waves, the curious vibration of countless insects now the shrill cry of some night bird, then such softness again that the world seemed asleep. "Ma fille, ma fille," and the half-inquiring accent of Wanamee's voice fell on her ear. "I am here. It is so beautiful.
Miladi has been irritable, and not so gay as she used, but she is better now, and will soon be her olden self. She was very nice and cheerful this morning, and laughed with the joy of other days. Oh, child, do not disturb it by any tempers." Wanamee's eyes were soft and entreating. "Oh, you need not fear," the child exclaimed, proudly. "Now I will go."
She began to teach her to read and to play checkers. Rose did not take kindly to embroidery, but some of the Indian work interested her. With Pani and Wanamee's assistance she made baskets and curious vase-like jars. Pierre Gaudrion came up now and then, and miladi considered him quite a prodigy in several ways. When they were dull and tired miladi gave Rose dancing lessons.
I have expected to meet them. M. Destournier must have been more disabled than we supposed. But we shall soon know." Oh, what if he were dead! A blackness fell over everything. She caught Wanamee's arm for support. It was growing so dark they kept closer together.
Yes, to-morrow they would know all. She did not want any supper and crept to bed, weeping out her fears in Wanamee's arms. They were all astir the next morning at daybreak. It was a little cloudy. The three days had been unusually fine. Savignon had been tracing this and that clew, and presently came upon a piece of wampum, with a curious Huron design at one end.
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