looks
on at a frivolity for which he cares nothing. 'Tis the young who
dance. And you, Monsieur de Artigny, am I to meet you there also, or
perchance later at the boat landing?"

The younger man seemed slow in response, but across Cassion's shoulder
our eyes met. I know not what he saw in the glance of mine, for I gave
no sign, yet his face brightened, and his words were carelessly
spoken.

"At the ball, Monsieur. 'Tis three years since I have danced to
measure, but it will be a joy to look on, and thus keep company with
Monsieur Chevet. Nor shall I fail you at the boats: until then,
Messieurs," and he bowed hat in hand, "and to you, Mademoiselle,
adieu."

We watched him go down the grape arbor to the canoe, and no one spoke
but Cassion.

"_Pouf!_ he thinks well of himself, that young cockerel, and 'twill
likely be my part to clip his spurs. Still 'tis good policy to have
him with us, for 'tis a long journey. What say you, Chevet?"

"That he is one to watch," answered my uncle gruffly. "I trust none of
La Salle's brood."

"No, nor I, for the matter of that, but I am willing to pit my brains
against the best of them. Francois Cassion is not likely to be caught
asleep, my good Hugo."

He turned about, and glanced questioningly into my face.

"And so, Mademoiselle, it did not altogether please you to be my guest
at the ball? Perchance you preferred some other gallant?"

The sunlight, flickering through the leaves, rested on his face, and
brought out the mottled skin of dissipation, the thin line of his
cruel lips, the insolent stare of his eyes. I felt myself shrink,
dreading he might touch me; yet dominating all else was the thought of
De Artigny--the message of his glance, the secret meaning of his
pledge--the knowledge that he would be there. So I smiled, and made
light of his suspicion.

"It was but surprise, Monsieur," I said gaily "for I had not dreamed
of such an honor. 'Tis my wish to go; see, I have been working on a
new gown, and now I must work the faster."

I swept him a curtsey, smiling to myself at the expression of his
face, and before he could speak had disappeared within. Bah! I would
escape those eyes and be alone to dream.

CHAPTER II

THE CHOICE OF A HUSBAND

It was just before dark when Monsieur Cassion left us, and I watched
him go gladly enough, hidden behind the shade of my window. He had
been talking for an hour with Chevet in the room below; I could hear
the rattle of