Part 36 (2/2)

”He was a n.o.ble, big fellow. And they have gone up in the woods for deer.”

Miladi was still asleep when she entered the room. She held the lamp a little close with a sudden fear, but she saw the tranquil movement of her chest and was rea.s.sured. There was a young moon coming up, a golden crescent in a sky of flawless blue. It was too small to light the savage cliffs, but she could hear the plash of the incoming tide that swirled along with the current of the river. If the English came, what then?

It was near ten when miladi woke.

”What time is it?” she asked. ”Not quite morning, for it is dark. I have had such a splendid sleep. Why, I feel quite well.”

She sat up in the bed.

”Come and bathe my face, Rose. Do you know whether Madame Hebert has the recipe of this fragrant water? Mine is nearly gone. It is so refres.h.i.+ng.”

”I am quite sure she has. You have had no supper. There is some tasty meat broth.”

”I'm tired of pease and greens, and make-believe things that don't nourish you at all. And there was such nice fish. Why do they not get some? The river certainly hasn't dried up.”

”No, Madame,” in almost a merry tone, as if it might take the edge off of complaining. ”But there is such a scarcity of hooks. Pet.i.t Gabou is making a net of dried gra.s.s that he thinks will answer the purpose. And we have always had such a plentiful supply of fish.”

The broth was very nouris.h.i.+ng. Then Rose must sit with both of miladi's hands in hers, so warm and soft, hers being little beside bone and joints. She talked of France and her youth, when she was a pretty girl, just out of the convent, and went to Paris. ”You will like it so much. I can hardly wait for the summer to come. I shall not mind if Monsieur has so much business on hand that he cannot leave,” and her tone had a little mocking accent. ”When men get older they lose their nice ways of compliment and grace. They care less for their wives. Even M. de Champlain does not fret after his, who is no doubt enjoying herself finely. She was wise not to return.”

The slim, golden crescent had wandered away to other worlds, and the stars grew larger and brighter in their bed of blue. She watched them through the open window. A screen was set up so that no draught should annoy miladi. Presently she fell asleep again, and Rose stole to her own couch, the other side of the screen, where she could still watch the stars.

Savignon had come in with news. The Algonquins knew of a storehouse of the Iroquois, who had gone on the war-path, and would hardly be back for a whole moon. It would be best to start at once, and they began preparations. Some of the Indian women volunteered, they were used to carrying burthens. Bags were packed up. They trusted to find most of their food upon the route.

Miladi took the parting tranquilly. M. Ralph had spent weeks on exploring expeditions. If there was any danger in this, she did not heed it. She held up her face to be kissed, and he noted how dry and parched the lips were.

He gave a brief good-bye to Rose, who was standing near.

”Surely, he does not care for women,” Miladi thought exultingly. ”Even her fresh, young beauty is nothing to him. He has no tender, eager soul.”

Rose went down to the plateau to see the start.

”You are much interested, Mam'selle?” Savignon said. ”Give us the charm of your thoughts and prayers.”

”You have both, most truly.” What a fine, stalwart fellow Savignon was, lighter than the average, and picturesque in his Indian costume, though he often wore the garb of civilization. French had become to him almost a mother tongue.

Yet Rose wondered a little if it was right to rob the storehouse where the industrious Indians had been making preparations for the coming winter. Was it easier for one race to starve than another?

”And wish us a safe return.”

The look in his eyes disconcerted her for an instant. Her own drooped.

She was acquiring a woman's wisdom.

”I do that most heartily,” she made answer, turning aside; but the admiration lingered over her fine, yet strong figure, with its grace of movement. The beautiful eyes haunted him, if they were turned away.

Such forays were not uncommon among the tribes. The Iroquois had planted more than one storehouse in the wilderness, in most secluded places. It saved carrying burthens, as they wandered about, or if in desperate weather, they set up their wigwams, and remained eating and sleeping, until hunger drove them elsewhere.

A s.h.i.+p had come down from Acadia with news that several English vessels were hovering about. They offered to take some of the women and children, and M. de Champlain was thankful for this. By spring there must be some change in affairs. The mother country could not wholly forget them.

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