nce, Monsieur de Artigny tells me."

"Yes, Madame, of the Regiment Carignan-Salliers," he answered.

"I wonder have you served long? My father was an officer in that
command--Captain la Chesnayne."

The expression on the man's face changed magically.

"You the daughter of Captain la Chesnayne," he exclaimed, the words
bursting forth uncontrolled, "and married to Cassion! how can this
be?"

"You knew him then--my father?"

"Ay, Madame; I was with him at the Richelieu, at the village of the
Mohawks; and at Bois le Blanc, where he died. I am Jacques Barbeau, a
soldier for twenty years; did he not speak to you of me?"

"I was but a girl when he was killed, and we seldom met, for he was
usually on campaign. Yet what do you mean by thus expressing surprise
at my marriage to Monsieur Cassion?"

He hesitated, evidently regretting his impulsive speech, and glancing
from my face into the stern eyes of De Artigny.

"Monsieur, Madame, I spoke hastily; it was not my place."

"That may be true, Barbeau," replied the Sieur grimly, "yet the words
have been said, and the lady has a right to have them explained. Was
there quarrel between her father and this Francois Cassion?"

"Ay, there was, and bitter, although I know nothing as to the cause.
Cassion, and La Barre--he whom I now hear is Governor of New
France--were alike opposed to Captain la Chesnayne, and but for
reports they made he would have been the colonel. He struck Cassion in
the mess tent, and they were to fight the very morning the Iroquois
met us at Bois le Blanc. 'Twas the talk of the men that the captain
was shot from behind."

"By Cassion?"

"That I cannot say; yet the bullet entered behind the ear, for I was
first to reach him, and he had no other enemy in the Regiment
Carignan-Salliers. The feeling against M. Cassion was so strong that
he resigned in a few months. You never heard this?"

I could not answer, but stood silent with bowed head. I felt De
Artigny place his hand on my shoulder.

"The lady did not know," he said gravely, as though he felt the
necessity of an explanation. "She was at school in a convent at
Quebec, and no rumor reached her. She is thankful to you for what you
have said, Barbeau, and can trust you as her father's friend and
comrade. May I tell him the truth, Madame? The man may have other
information of value."

I looked at the soldier, and his eyes were grave and honest.

"Yes," I answered, "it can do no harm."

De Artig