"But I was not inside, monsieur."
"I believed you to be, and I gave the signal."
"But, monsieur, I"——
"Madame, I believed you to be in the camp, and I gave the signal to attack it."
She was silent at that, and I knew that at last she understood. We stood side by side. I looked at the litter in Cadillac's tent, and counted it piece by piece. There were clothes, papers, a handmill for grinding maize. I felt her touch my hand.
"Will you sit beside me on the couch?"
I followed her. She sat facing me, just out of reach of my hand. The light in the tent was blue and dim, but I could see the breath flutter in her throat. I looked at her. I should never be alone with her again. I should never again look at her in this way. I tried to hold the moment, and not blur it. I looked at the lips that I had never kissed. I watched the rise and fall of the bosom where my head had never lain. She was speaking, but I could hardly understand.
"I was three days in the woods before I found the Pottawatamies," she said. "I was alone all night with the stars and the trees. I thought of everything. I thought of this, monsieur. I was sure you would do—what you did."
I stared at her stupidly.
She reached out and touched my hand. "Monsieur, listen. I have lived beside you. I know you to be a man of fixed purpose and fanatic honor. When such a man as you lays out a path for himself, he will follow it even if he has to trample on what is in his way,—even if he has to trample on his heart, monsieur."