Miladi asked some questions hard for Jeanne to answer with truth; how she had come up the lake, and if her captors had treated her well.
"It seems quite mysterious," she said.
Then they talked about Detroit, and Jeanne's past life, and Miladi was more puzzled than ever.
A slim young Indian woman brought in the baby, a dainty girl of two years old, who ran swiftly to her mother and began chattering in French with pretty broken words, and looking shyly at the guest. Then there was a great shout and a rush as of a flock of birds.
"I beat Gaston, maman, six out of ten shots."
"But two arrows broke. They were good for nothing," interrupted the second boy.
"And can't Antoine take us out fishing—" the boy stopped and came close to Jeanne, wonderingly.
"This is Mademoiselle Jeanne," their mother said, "Robert and Gaston. Being twins there is no elder."
They were round, rosy, sunburned boys, with laughing eyes and lithe figures.
"Can you swim?" queried Robert.