"I think two were Hurons. They could talk bad French," and she smiled.
"And Chippewa, that I can understand quite well."

"Were your relatives in Detroit rich people?"

"Oh, no, I have none." Then Jeanne related her simple story.

"Strange! strange!" Loudac stroked his beard and drew his bushy eyebrows
together. "There could have been no thought of ransom. I mistrust,
pretty maid, that it must have been some one who watched thee and wanted
thee for his squaw. Up in the wild North there would have been little
chance to escape. Thou hast been fortunate in finding Owaissa. Her
lover's boat came in at Bois Blanc. I suppose she went to meet him.
Dame, it is late, and the child looks tired as one might well be after a
long journey. Canst thou not find her a bed?"

The bed was soon improvised. Jeanne thanked her protectors with
overflowing eyes and tremulous voice. For a long while she knelt in
thanksgiving, her simple faith discerning a real miracle in her escape.
Surely God had sent Owaissa. She forgot the fell purpose of the Indian
girl, and wondered at her love for Louis Marsac.

There was much confusion and noise among the children the next morning
while the dame was giving them their breakfast, but Jeanne slept soundly
until they were all out at play. The sun shone as she opened her eyes,
and one ray slanted across the window. Oh, where was she, in prison
still? Then, by slow degrees, yesterday came back to her.

The dame greeted her cheerily, and set before her a simple breakfast
that tasted most delicious. Loudac had gone up to the great house.

"For when the White Chief is away, Loudac has charge of everything. Once
he saved the master's life, he was his servant then, and since that time
he has been the head of all matters. The White Chief trusts him like a
brother. But look you, both of them came from France and there is no
mixed blood in them. Rough as Loudac seems his mother was of gentle
birth, and he can read and write not only French but English, and is a
judge of fine furs and understands business. He is shrewd to know people
as well," and she gave a satisfied smile.

"The White Chief is away--"

"He has gone up to Michilimackinac, perhaps to Hudson Bay. But all goes
on here just the same. Loudac has things well in hand."

"I would like to return to Detroit," ventured Jeanne, timidly, glancing
up with beseeching eyes.

"That thou shalt, _ma petite_. There will be boats going down before
cold wea