me a subject of quarrel. Is it my tent they
erect yonder?"

"Ay," there was little graciousness to the tone, for the man had the
nature of a bully. "'Twas my thought that it be brought for your use;
and if Monsieur de Artigny will consent to stand aside, it will give
me pleasure to escort you thither."

The younger man's eyes glanced from the other's face into mine, as
though seeking reassurance. His hat was instantly in his hand, and he
stepped backward, bowing low.

"The wish of the lady is sufficient," he said quietly, and then stood
again erect, facing Cassion. "Yet," he added slowly, "I would remind
Monsieur that while I serve him as a guide, it is as a volunteer, and
I am also an officer of France."

"Of France? Pah! of the renegade La Salle."

"France has no more loyal servant, Monsieur Cassion in all this
western land--nor is he renegade, for he holds the Illinois at the
King's command."

"Held it--yes; under Frontenac, but not now."

"We will not quarrel over words, yet not even in Quebec was it claimed
that higher authority than La Barre's had led to recall. Louis had
never interfered, and it is De Tonty, and not De Baugis who is in
command at St. Louis by royal order. My right to respect of rank is
clearer than your own, Monsieur, so I beg you curb your temper."

"You threaten me?"

"No; we who live in the wilderness do not talk, we act. I obey your
orders, do your will, on this expedition, but as a man, not a slave.
In all else we stand equal, and I accept insult from no living man.
'Tis well that you know this, Monsieur."

The hat was back upon his head, and he had turned away before Cassion
found answering speech. It was a jaunty, careless figure, disappearing
amid the trees, the very swing of his shoulders a challenge, nor did
he so much as glance about to mark the effect of his insolent words.
For the instant I believed Cassion's first thought was murder, for he
gripped a pistol in his hand, and flung one foot forward, an oath
sputtering between his lips. Yet the arrant coward in him conquered
even that mad outburst of passion, and before I could grasp his arm in
restraint, the impulse had passed, and he was staring after the slowly
receding figure of De Artigny, his fingers nerveless.

"_Mon Dieu_--no! I'll show the pup who is the master," he muttered.
"Let him disobey once, and I'll stretch his dainty form as I would an
Indian cur."

"Monsieur," I said, drawing his attention to my prese