The old man walked nonchalantly toward her. She looked up with a smile and put into his hand the book, which he slipped into an inner pocket. “I trust you have found it profitable reading, my daughter,” he said, seriously.
“I think so, Father.”
François did not see the sudden amused expression which played around Father Bisset’s mouth as he saw the satisfied look upon the young man’s face when he turned away.
Alaine made room by her side for her old friend. “Well?” she said, eagerly, when François was out of hearing.
“All is well,” she was told. “I think we may hope to escape once we reach Canada. You, of course, refuse to marry here on shipboard.”
“Of course.”
“Then you go to a nunnery.”
“Oh!”
“I go with you to prepare the nuns for the part they are to act toward you. That will be our opportunity. Do not look so glad. You must assume a pensive and troubled air. That is better. As we near land you must seem distressed, uncertain, shy, even of me, and at times silent and thoughtful. M. Dupont will urge you at the last to marry him, and you say you will refuse. Very good.” The old man hesitated a moment, then said. “But, my daughter, it is a true intention of his to try for the release of your father. Will you, then, remain in the convent to await his return?”
“Oh, Father, that is a hard question. How shall I answer it?”