“If you think I am going to run after him,” with a charming show of indignation that made her cheeks bloom like the rose, “you are far out of the way. That would be on every one’s tongue. Renée de Longueville has gone to New Orleans after M’sieu Valbonais, because she cannot get a lover here. Why, he might stay there a hundred years before I would go!”
“There seems to be no lack of lovers here. Whether they come for me, or the good fire, or——”
“They like you, and they like to smoke and ask your advice. And don’t you notice that sometimes I go to bed, slip away softly, and they never miss me?”
At that Uncle Gaspard would nod, with an expression of incredulity in his eyes.
And on nights like these, when she happened to be alone, or in that long space of winter twilight when she curled herself up in the fur rugs like a kitten, she used to wander off in reveries about that almost dream-like episode, with its terrors, that made her shudder even now, because she realized their dangers so much more keenly. Oh, what if André had not found them? How could they have taken all that long journey with no care, no kindly treatment? And that tall, fierce Black Feather! He might have minded about Wawataysee, who was of some value to him, but she, a little child! And if André had said, “Oh, we cannot be bothered with her, we shall have to go so much slower,” and they had stolen away! Some tears always came in her eyes at this point. And there was that last night, when he had carried her and she had slept in his arms. Yes, she ought to be very grateful. And sometimes she had been wilful and treated him very badly. Of course, he had half-forgotten about her. Was the girl beautiful that he cared the most for? Did she dance with the grace of a fairy, and was her voice sweet and seductive, just as Barbe Gardepier’s was at times, a sound that both fascinated and vexed her, the liquid tone that made a man bend his head lest he should lose a note of its sweetness? And her parents would be very gracious to him; she knew how charming mothers could be.
After they had been married a long, long while she would go with Uncle Gaspard to visit them. She and Uncle Gaspard would grow old together, and she would have a stoop in the shoulders like Mère Lunde.
[CHAPTER XIX—THIS WAY AND THAT]
All the world was abloom and fragrant with later spring. The children were ranging out on the great mound, learning lessons of the sky, with all its variations; of the woods, with their many kinds of trees; of the flowers that were budding and blossoming; of the river winding about, guessing at other rivers and other countries and great lakes and frozen regions up at the far north where the white bear lived and the beautiful white and silver fox, whose fur was rare and held in high esteem. They peopled it with strange, fierce Indians, and sometimes the boys divided in two parties and fought. The girls made circles for wigwams, collected dried grass and sticks and built fires in the centre; and if there were but few books and no real schools, they were skilful in many things. They could shoot smaller game, they could manage a canoe, they could fish, and they acquired much useful knowledge by the time they were men and women.
Even to-day youth is attracted by the wild, free life, and the spirit of adventure still runs in the blood.
The line of boats were coming up north again. There had been much floating ice in the river this spring, which had delayed travelling. Flags were flying, so all was well. Down on the levee bells were ringing and horns blew out a welcome. Everything had a natural look again, only the new places were built higher up, and even some of these had been damaged by the crushing of ice cakes.