I helped you get your way on this expedition,
what it was; that I loved you, that I would have kissed the ground you
had walked on. And on our journey here I have dreamed beautiful,
thrilling dreams of you. I slept at the door of your improvised tent
lest some danger should come upon you unawares. Last night when I noted
your tired step I wanted to take you in my arms and carry you. You have
filled my soul and my body with the rapture of love. I can think of
nothing else but the bliss of straining you to my heart, of touching
your lips with the fire that plays about mine, like the rosy lightning
that flashes through the heavens, engendered by the heat of the day. Oh,
take me for your husband, and your life shall be filled with the best I
can give. You shall not weary your small hands with work, they shall be
kept for a husband's kisses. I will worship you as the priests do their
Virgin."

She had been transfixed at the outburst and flaming, passionate tone,
that in its vehemence seemed to grow finer, loftier. Was that love's
work?

"But it will not save M. Destournier," she wailed.

"Listen again." He stood up, manly and strong, and somehow touched her
with a subtle influence. It is not in a woman's nature to listen to a
tale of passionate love unmoved. "Once, among the Hurons an old witch
woman was wild to adopt me for her son. She gave me a great many secret
charms, many you white people would think the utmost foolishness. Some
were curious. And my people are superstitious. I have used them more
than once to the advantage of myself and others. I have brought about
peace between warring tribes. I have prevented war. I will go to the
Hurons, and try for M. Destournier's liberty. From what De Loie said,
they mean to sacrifice the men to-morrow. There are horrid, agonizing
tortures before death comes. If you will promise to marry me I will go
at once and do my utmost to rescue him, them."

"And if you fail?" Her very breath seemed like a blast of winter cold.

"Then, Mam'selle, I can ask no reward, only a share in your sorrow. I
will try to lighten their sufferings. That is all I can do."

She crossed her arms upon her breast and rocked herself to and fro.

"Oh, I cannot, I cannot," she said, with a cry of anguish. "Another man,
our dear Madame de Champlain's brother asked this thing of me, and I
could not. I do not want to marry."

"All women do in their hearts," he said moodily.

Was she not quite a woman yet