ince we departed from
Quebec. I was no longer watched, spied upon, my every movement
ordered, my speech criticized. More, I was delivered from the hated
presence of Cassion, ever reminding me that I was his wife, and
continually threatening to exercise his authority. Ay, and I was with
De Artigny, alone with him, and the joy of this was so deep that I
came to a sudden realization of the truth--I loved him.

In a way I must have known this before, yet, not until that moment,
did the fact dawn upon me in full acknowledgement. I sank my head on
my hands, my breath quickened by surprise, by shame, and felt my
cheeks burn. I loved him, and believed he loved me. I knew then that
all the happiness of life centered in this one fact; while between us
arose the shadow of Cassion, my husband. True I loved him not; true I
was to him wife only in name; true our marriage was a thing of shame,
yet no less a fact, no less a barrier. I was a La Chesnayne to whom
honor was a religion; a Catholic bowing humbly to the vow of Holy
Church; a Frenchwoman taught that marriage was a sacred rite.

The knowledge of my love for De Artigny brought me more fear than
pleasure. I dare not dream, or hope; I must escape his presence while
I retained moral strength to resist temptation. I got to my feet, not
knowing what I could do, yet with a wild conception of returning to
the beach, and seeking to find a passage southward. I would go now
along the shore, before De Artigny came back, and meet those returning
canoes. In such action lay my only safety--he would find me gone,
would trace me along the sand, yet before I could be caught, I would
have met the others, and thus escape the peril of being alone with him
again.

Even as I reached this decision, something arose in my throat and
choked me, for my eyes saw just outside the curve of the shore-line, a
canoe emerge from the shadows of the bluff. I cannot picture the
reaction, the sudden shrinking fear which, in that instant, mastered
me. They were coming, seeking me; coming to drag me back into slavery;
coming to denounce De Artigny of crime, and demand his life.

I know not which thought dominated me--my own case, or his; but I
realized instantly what course Cassion would pursue. His hatred of De
Artigny would be fanned into flame by discovery that we were alone
together. He possessed the power, the authority to put this man
forever out of his way. To save him there remained but one possible
plan