fight a common foe, and forget our own quarrel. Did you
say Rene de Artigny was in the fighting yonder?"

"Yes; he and a soldier named Barbeau."

The fellow stood silent, shifting his feet.

"'Twas told us he was dead," he said finally, with effort. "Some more
of La Barre's men arrived three days ago by boat, under a popinjay
they call Cassion to recruit De Baugis' forces. De la Durantaye was
with him from the portage, so that now they outnumber us three to one.
You know this Cassion, Madame?"

"Ay, I traveled with his party from Montreal."

"Ah, then you will know the truth no doubt. De Tonty and Cassion were
at swords points over a charge the latter made against Rene de
Artigny--that he had murdered one of the party at St. Ignace."

"Hugo Chevet, the fur trader."

"Ay, that was the name. We of La Salle's company know it to be a lie.
_Sacre_! I have served with that lad two years, and 'tis not in his
nature to knife any man in the back. And so De Tonty said, and he gave
Cassion the lie straight in his teeth. I heard their words, and but
for De Baugis and De la Durantaye, Francois Cassion would have paid
well for his false tongue. Now you can tell him the truth."

"I shall do that, but even my word, I fear, will not clear De Artigny
of the charge. I believe the man to be innocent; in my heart there is
no doubt, yet there is so little to be proven."

"Cassion speaks bitterly; he is an enemy."

"Monsieur Cassion is my husband," I said regretfully.

"Your pardon, Madame. Ah, I understand it all now. You were supposed
to have been drowned in the great lake, but were saved by De Artigny.
'Twill be a surprise for Monsieur, but in this land, we witness
strange things. _Mon Dieu_! see, they come yonder; 'tis Boisrondet and
his men."

They approached in silence, mere shadowy figures, whose numbers I
could not count, but those in advance bore a helpless body in their
arms, and my heart seemed to stop its beating, until I heard De
Artigny's voice in cheerful greeting.

"What, still here, Madame, and the gate beyond open," he took my hand,
and lifted it to his lips. "My congratulations; your work was well
done, and our lives thank you. Madame Cassion, this is my comrade,
Francois Boisrondet, whose voice I was never more glad to hear than
this night. I commend him to your mercy."

Boisrondet, a mere shadow in the night, swept the earth with his hat.

"I mind me the time," he said courteously, "when Rene did me equa