yet failed to grasp the full significance.

Vaguely I comprehended that I was no longer Adele la Chesnayne, but
the wife of that man I followed. A word, a muttered prayer, an
uplifted hand, had made me his slave, his vassal. Nothing could break
the bond between us save death. I might hate, despise, revile, but the
bond held. This thought grew clearer as my mind readjusted itself, and
the full horror of the situation took possession of me. Yet there was
nothing I could do; I could neither escape or fight, nor had I a
friend to whom I could appeal. Suddenly I realized that I still
grasped in my hand the heavy paper knife I had snatched up from La
Barre's desk, and I thrust it into the waistband of my skirt. It was
my only weapon of defense, yet to know I had even that seemed to bring
me a glow of courage.

We reached the river's edge and halted. Below us, on the bank, the
blazing fire emitted a red gleam reflecting on the water, and showing
us the dark outlines of waiting canoes, and seated figures. Gazing
about Cassion broke the silence, his voice assuming the harshness of
authority.

"Three canoes! Where is the other? Huh! if there be delay now, someone
will make answer to me. Pass the word for the sergeant; ah! is this
you Le Claire?"

"All is prepared, Monsieur."

He glared at the stocky figure fronting him in infantry uniform.

"Prepared! You have but three boats at the bank."

"The other is below, Monsieur; it is loaded and waits to lead the
way."

"Ah! and who is in charge?"

"Was it not your will that it be the guide--the Sieur de Artigny?"

"_Sacre!_ but I had forgotten the fellow. Ay! 'tis the best place for
him. And are all provisions and arms aboard? You checked them, Le
Claire?"

"With care, Monsieur; I watched the stowing of each piece; there is
nothing forgotten."

"And the men?"

"Four Indian paddlers to each boat, Monsieur, twenty soldiers, a
priest, and the guide."

"'Tis the tally. Make room for two more in the large canoe; ay, the
lady goes. Change a soldier each to your boat and that of Pere Allouez
until we make our first camp, where we can make new arrangement."

"There is room in De Artigny's canoe."

"We'll not call him back; the fellows will tuck away somehow. Come,
let's be off, it looks like dawn over yonder."

I found myself in one of the canoes, so filled with men any movement
was almost impossible, yet of this I did not complain for my Uncle
Chevet was next to me, an