ma was comforted. She totally regained her equanimity, and conversed
calmly with Cary. After a time, when little Blanche began to set the
table, she rose to assist and cooked the frugal meal with her own hands.
Later, she helped Batoche to prepare the liniments for the young
officer's bruises. Batoche was as expert as any medicine man among the
Indians, from whom indeed he had learned the virtues of the various
seeds and herbs which hung in bunches from the rafters of his hut.

A couple of hours thus passed away almost unnoticed. As eight o'clock
struck, Zulma arose from her seat and announced her intention of
remaining with her friend till the next day, when the nature of his
wounds would be better known. Cary remonstrated gently, renewing the
assurance that within a very few days he would be in perfect possession
of his limbs. On the other hand, Batoche encouraged Zulma in her
resolution. He declared he would regard it as a great favor if she would
accept the scant hospitality of his hut for one night. Little Blanche
said nothing, but she clung to the skirt of Zulma and there was an
appeal in her eye which the latter could not have resisted even if she
had been so minded. In her usual decided way, she ordered the servant to
drive back to Charlesbourg, inform her father why she had remained
behind, and return to learn her wishes the next morning.

"If I thought," said Batoche, "that Sieur Sarpy would be too anxious, I
would go with your servant, and explain everything."

"There is no need," replied Zulma. "My father is convinced that I would
do nothing to pain him, and I know that his high regard for Captain
Singleton, and his confidence in yourself, Batoche, will make him
completely approve, the course which I take. The chief point is that my
servant should return at once in order that my father may have no fear
that I have encountered an accident on the road."

And without further delay, the servant took his departure.

Quietude then reigned in the cabin. Little Blanche recited her prayers
to Zulma, and was put to bed by her, when she went to sleep directly.
Her strange manners and remarkable discourse had been a source of great
interest to Cary. Batoche retired to his alcove, whence he did not issue
for a long time. In the interval, Zulma and the disabled officer, seated
before the fire, indulged in a low-voiced conversation. Cary thanked his
wounds for this unexpected opportunity of pleasant repose. Going over