or. She expected him to give no
quarter in his questioning of her, to corner her if he could, to demand
of her why the deformed giant had spoken the name of the man he was
after, Black Roger Audemard. The truth hammered in David's brain. It
had not been a delusion of his fevered mind after all; it was not a
possible deception of the half-breed's, as he had thought last night.
Chance had brought him face to face with the mystery of Black Roger.
St. Pierre's wife, waiting for him to speak, was in some way associated
with that mystery, and the cripple was asking for the man McVane had
told him to bring in dead or alive! Yet he did not question her. He
turned to the window and looked out from where Marie-Anne had stood a
few moments before.

The day was glorious. On the far shore he saw life where last night's
camp had been. Men were moving about close to the water, and a York
boat was putting out slowly into the stream. Close under the window
moved a canoe with a single occupant. It was Andre, the Broken Man.
With powerful strokes he was paddling across the river. His deformity
was scarcely noticeable in the canoe. His bare head and black beard
shone in the sun, and between his great shoulders his head looked more
than ever to Carrigan like the head of a carven god. And this man, like
a mighty tree stricken by lightning, his mind gone, was yet a thing
that was more than mere flesh and blood to Marie-Anne Boulain!

David turned toward her. Her attitude was changed. It was no longer one
of proud defiance. She had expected to defend herself from something,
and he had given her no occasion for defense. She did not try to hide
the fact from him, and he nodded toward the window.

"He is going away in a canoe. I am afraid you didn't want me to see
him, and I am sorry I happened to be here when he came."

"I made no effort to keep him away, M'sieu David. Perhaps I wanted you
to see him. And I thought, when you did--" She hesitated.

"You expected me to crucify you, if necessary, to learn the truth of
what he knows about Roger Audemard," he said. "And you were ready to
fight back. But I am not going to question you unless you give me
permission."

"I am glad," she said in a low voice. "I am beginning to have faith in
you, M'sieu David. You have promised not to try to escape, and I
believe you. Will you also promise not to ask me questions, which I can
not answer--until St. Pierre comes?"

"I will try."

She came up to him