Part 42 (1/2)

Jeanne protested that she had enjoyed it quite as much.

”It is a luxury to have a new playfellow now that their father is away.

They are so fond of him. Sometimes we all go.”

”When will he return, Madame?”

”In a fortnight or so. Then he takes the long winter journey. That is a more dreary time, but we shut ourselves up and have blazing fires and work and read, and the time pa.s.ses. There is the great hope at the end,”

and she gave an exquisite smile.

”But--Miladi--how can I get back to Detroit?”

”Must thou go?” endearingly. ”If there are no parents--”

”But there is my poor Pani! And Detroit that I am so familiar with. Then I dare say they are all wondering.”

”Loudac will tell us when he comes back.”

Loudac had a budget of news. First there had been a marriage that very morning on the ”Flying Star,” the pretty boat of Louis Marsac, and Owaissa was the bride. There had been a feast given to the men, and the young mistress had stood before them to have her health drunk and receive the good wishes and a belt of wampum, with a lovely white doeskin cloak that was like velvet. Then they had set sail for Lake Superior.

Jeanne was very glad of the friendly twilight. She felt her face grow red and cold by turns.

”And the maiden Owaissa will be very happy,” she said half in a.s.sertion, half inquiry.

”He is smart and handsome, but tricky at times, and overfond of brandy.

But if a girl gets the man she wants all is well for a time, at least.”

The next bit of news was that the ”Return” would go to Detroit in four or five days.

”Not direct, which will be less pleasant. For she goes first over to Barre, and then crosses the lake again and stops at Presque Isle. After that it is clear sailing. A boat of hides and freight goes down, but that would not be pleasant. To-morrow I will see the captain of the 'Return.'”

”Thou wouldst not like a winter among us here?” inquired the dame. ”It is not so bad, and the boys at the great house are wild over thee.”

”Oh, I must go,” Jeanne said, with breathless eagerness. ”I shall remember all your kindness through my whole life.”

”Home is home,” laughed good-humored Loudac.

Very happy and light-hearted was Jeanne Angelot. There would be nothing more to fear from Louis Marsac. How had they settled it, she wondered.

Owaissa had said that she sent the child home under proper escort. Louis Marsac ground his teeth, and yet--did he care so much for the girl only to gratify a mean revenge for one thing?--the other he was not quite sure of. At all events Jeanne Angelot would always be the loser. The Detroit foundling,--and he gave a short laugh like the snarl of a dog.

Delightful as everything was, Jeanne counted the days. She was up at the great house and read to its lovely mistress, sang and danced with baby Angelique, taking hold of the tiny hands and swinging round in graceful circles, playing games with the boys and doing feats, and trying to laugh off the lamentations, which sometimes came near to tears.

”How strange,” said Miladi the last evening, ”that we have never heard your family name. Or--had you none?”

”Oh, yes, Madame. Some one took good care of that. It was written on a paper pinned to me; and,” laughing, ”p.r.i.c.ked into my skin so I could not deny it. It is Jeanne Angelot. But there are no Angelots in Detroit.”

Miladi grasped her arm so tightly that Jeanne's breath came with a flutter.