Rose had been considering another subject.
"Pani," she began, with great seriousness, "you are not any one's slave now."
"No"—rather hesitatingly. "The Dubrays will never come back, or if they should next summer, with furs, I will run away again up to the Saguenay, where they will not look. But there are Indian boys in plenty where the tribes fight and take prisoners."
"You shall be my slave."
The young Indian's cheek flushed.
"The slave of a girl!" he said, with a touch of disdain.
"Why not? I should not beat you."
"Oh, you couldn't"—triumphantly.
"But you might be miladi's slave," suggested Wanamee, "and then you could watch the little one and follow her about to see that nothing harmed her."
"There shouldn't anything hurt her." He sprang up. "You see I am growing tall, and presently I shall be a man. But I won't be a slave always."