of the sacrifice demanded. Cassion! never
before had the man appeared so despicable. His face, his manner, swept
through my memory in review. I had scarcely considered him before,
except as a disagreeable presence to be avoided as much as possible.
But now, in the silence, the growing darkness of that little chamber,
with Chevet's threat echoing in my ears, he came to me in clear
vision--I saw his dull-blue, cowardly eyes, his little waxed mustache,
his insolent swagger, and heard his harsh, bragging voice.

Ay! he would get on; there was no doubt of that, for he would worm his
way through where only a snake could crawl. A snake! that was what he
was, and I shuddered at thought of the slimy touch of his hand. I
despised, hated him; yet what could I do? It was useless to appeal to
Chevet, and the Governor, La Barre, would give small heed to a girl
objecting to one of his henchmen. De Artigny! The name was on my lips
before I realized I had spoken it, and brought a throb of hope. I
arose to my feet, and stared out of the window into the dark night. My
pulses throbbed. If he cared; if I only knew he cared, I would fly
with him anywhere, into the wilderness depths, to escape Cassion. I
could think of no other way, no other hope. If he cared! It seemed to
me my very breath stopped as this daring conception, this mad
possibility, swept across my mind.

I was a girl, inexperienced, innocent of coquetry, and yet I possessed
all the instincts of a woman. I had seen that in his eyes which gave
me faith--he remembered the past; he had found me attractive; he felt
a desire to meet me again. I knew all this--but was that all? Was it a
mere passing fervor, a fleeting admiration, to be forgotten in the
presence of the next pretty face? Would he dare danger to serve me? to
save me from the clutches of Cassion? A smile, a flash of the eyes, is
small foundation to build upon, yet it was all I had. Perchance he
gave the same encouragement to others, with no serious thought. The
doubt assailed me, yet there was no one else in all New France to whom
I could appeal.

But how could I reach him with my tale? There was but one opportunity--the
Governor's ball. He would be there; he had said so, laughingly glancing
toward me as he spoke the words, the flash of his eyes a challenge. But it
would be difficult. Chevet, Cassion, not for a moment would they take
eyes from me, and if I failed to treat him coldly an open quarrel must
result. Chevet