mbled a mere whisper of sound. She leaned her
large head against the settle and watched the Swiss denounce his wife.

"You speak good military sense," said the lady, "yet there is monsieur's
command. And I cannot bring myself to drive that exhausted creature to a
cold bed in the woods. We must venture--we cannot do less--to let her
rest a few days under guard. Now let me hear your news."

"It was only this, madame. Word was brought in that two priests from
Montreal were wandering above the falls and trying to cross the St. John
in order to make their way to D'Aulnay's fort at Penobscot. So I set
after them and brought them in, and they are now in the keep, waiting
your pleasure."

"Doubtless you did right," hesitated Madame La Tour. "Even priests may
be working us harm, so hated are we of Papists. But have them out
directly, Klussman. We must not be rigorous. Did they bear any papers?"

"No, madame; and they said they had naught to do with D'Aulnay, but were
on a mission to the Abenakis around Penobscot, and had lost their course
and wandered here. One of them is that Father Isaac Jogues who was
maimed by the Mohawks, when he carried papistry among them, and the
other his donne--a name these priests give to any man who of his own
free will goes with them to be servant of the mission."

"Bring them out of the keep," said Madame La Tour.

The Swiss walked with ringing foot toward the stairway, and dropped upon
one knee to unbar the door in the pavement. He took a key from his
pocket and turned it in the lock, and, as he lifted the heavy leaf of
beams and crosspieces, his lady held over the darkness a candle, which
she had taken from one of the buffet sconces. Out of the vault rose a
chill breath from which the candle flame recoiled.

"Monsieur," she spoke downward, "will you have the goodness to come up
with your companion?"

Her voice resounded in the hollow; and some movement occurred below as
soft-spoken answer was made:--

"We come, madame."

A cassocked Jesuit appeared under the light, followed by a man wearing
the ordinary dress of a French colonist. They ascended the stone steps,
and Klussman replaced the door with a clank which echoed around the
hall. Marie gave him the candle, and with clumsy touch he fitted it to
the sconce while she led her prisoners to the fire. The Protestant was
able to dwell with disapproval on the Jesuit's black gown, though it
proved the hard service of a missionary priest; the