t."

"'Tis likely true, for there was small hope for any swimmer in such a
sea." Cassion's eyes turned to the others in the boat. "And you,
Descartes, you were in the canoe with the Sieur de Artigny, tell us
again what happened, and if this be not the place."

The soldier in the bow lifted his head.

"I know little of the place, Monsieur," he answered gruffly, "though
it would seem as if I recalled the forked tree yonder, showing through
a rift in the fog. All I know is that one of the paddles broke in the
sergeant's canoe, and over they went into the water. 'Twas as quick as
that," and he snapped his fingers, "and then a head or two bobbed up,
but the canoe swept over them, and down they went again. Sieur de
Artigny held our steering paddle, and, in an instant, he swung us that
way, and there was the lady struggling. I reached out and touched her,
but lost hold, and then the Sieur de Artigny leaped overboard, and the
storm whirled us off into the fog. I saw no more."

"You do not know that he reached her?"

"No, Monsieur; the lady sank when I lost my grip; I do not even know
if she came up again."

Cassion stood motionless, staring intently at the bluff. I almost
thought he must have seen me, but there was no outcry, and finally he
seated himself.

"Go on, round the long point yonder, and if there is no sign there we
will return," he said grimly. "'Tis my thought they were all drowned,
and there is no need of our seeking longer. Pull on boys, and let us
finish the job."

They rounded the point, the Pere talking earnestly, but the canoe so
far away I could not overhear his words. Cassion paid small heed to
what he urged, but, at last, angrily bade him be still, and, after a
glance into the narrow basin beyond, swung the bow of the canoe about,
and headed it southward, the return course further off shore. The
Indians paddled with renewed energy, and, in a few moments, they were
so far away their faces were indistinguishable, and I ventured to sit
on the bank, my gaze still on the vanishing canoe.

So intent was I that I heard no sound of approaching footsteps, and
knew nothing of De Artigny's presence until he spoke.

"What is that yonder--a canoe?"

I started, shrinking back, suddenly realizing what I had done, and the
construction he might place upon my action.

"Yes," I answered faintly, "it--it is a canoe."

"But it is headed south; it is going away," he paused, gazing into my
face. "Did it not come