is face full of suspicion, his great hand
gripping the knife.

"'Tis well for you if that be true," he said gruffly, "but I have no
faith in the lad's words. He is here as La Salle's spy, and so I
told Cassion, though the only honor he did me was to laugh at my
warning. 'Let him spy,' he said, 'and I will play at the same
game; 'tis little enough he will learn, and we shall need his
guidance.' Ay! and he may be right, but I want nothing to do with
the fellow. Cassion may give him place in his boats, if he will, but
never again shall he set foot on my land, nor have speech with
you. You mark my words, Mademoiselle?"

I felt the color flame into my cheeks, and knew my eyes darkened with
anger, yet made effort to control my speech.

"Yes, Monsieur; I am your ward and have always been obedient, yet this
Sieur de Artigny seems a pleasant spoken young man, and surely 'tis no
crime that he serves the Sieur de la Salle."

"Is it not!" he burst forth, striking the table with his fist. "Know
you not I would be rich, but for that fur stealer. By right those
should be my furs he sends here in trade. There will be another tale
to tell soon, now that La Barre hath the reins of power; and this De
Artigny--bah! What care I for that young cockerel--but I hate the
brood. Listen, girl, I pay my debts; it was this hand that broke Louis
de Artigny, and has kept him to his bed for ten years past. Yet even
that does not wipe out the score between us. 'Tis no odds to you what
was the cause, but while I live I hate. So you have my orders; you
will speak no more with this De Artigny."

"'Tis not like I shall have opportunity."

"I will see to that. The fool looked at you in a way that made me long
to grip his throat; nor do I like your answer, yet 'twill be well for
you to mark my words."

"Yes, Monsieur."

"Oh, you're sweet enough with words. I have heard you before, and
found you a sly minx--when my back was turned--but this time it is not
I alone who will watch your actions. I have pledged you a husband."

I got to my feet, staring at him, the indignant words stifled in my
throat. He laughed coarsely, and resumed his meal.

"A husband, Monsieur? You have pledged me?"

"Ay! why not? You are seventeen, and 'tis my place to see you well
settled."

"But I have no wish to marry, Monsieur," I protested. "There is no man
for whom I care."

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, and laughed.

"Pooh! if I waited for that no doubt