r the glowing plans and dreams of the earlier days, when they
were to rear a city that the mother country could be proud of.

He understood why Rose had shunned him, and whenever he resolved to take
up this troublous subject his courage failed him. Saved from this
marriage she surely must be. In a short time Savignon would return. He
had known of two women who had cast in their lots with the better-class
Indians at Tadoussac, and were happy enough. But they were not Rose.

He came slowly over to her now. She looked up and smiled. Much keeping
indoors of late had made her skin fair and fine, but her soft hair had
not shed all its gold.

"Rose," he began, then paused.

She flushed, but made a little gesture, as if he might be seated beside
her.

"Rose," he said again, "in the winter you saved my life. I have known it
for some time."

Her breath came with a gasp. How had he learned this, unless Savignon
had come before the time?

"And you paid a great price for it."

"Oh, oh!" she clasped her hands in distress. "How did you know it?"

"Savignon told me before he went away. He asked my consent to your
marriage. I could not give it then. He will soon return. I cannot give
it now."

"But it was a promise. Monsieur, your life was of more account than
mine."

"Do you think I will accept the sacrifice? I have been weak and cowardly
not to settle this matter before, not to give you the assurance that I
will make a brave fight for your release."

"I was very sad and frightened at first, partly ill, as well, and I
hoped not to live. But the good God did not take me. And if He meant me
to do this thing, keep my word, I must do it. I asked Father Jamay one
time about promises, and he said when one had vowed a vow it must be
kept. And I have prayed for courage when the time comes. See, I am quite
tranquil."

She raised her face and he read in it a nobly spiritual expression. He
recalled now that she had gone up to the convent quite often with
Wanamee, and that more than once she had slipped into Madame de
Champlain's _prie-dieu_, that her husband never would have disturbed.
Was she finding fortitude and comfort in a devotion to religion that
would strengthen her to meet this tremendous sacrifice? She looked like
a saint already.

She could not tell him that he knew only half, that he might still be
the object of Savignon's vengeance, if she failed to keep her word.

"Perhaps the Sieur will have something to say, if