The Indian nodded.
“And I can work,” she added eagerly. “I can work well, Jean Jacques.”
It was true. The slender, dark-eyed maiden, though of a frailer build than the majority of Acadian women, possessed the ambition they so often lacked.
“Come, then,” urged Jean Jacques. “The white man and his squaw they must wait. The waters of the Missaguash droop in their bed.”
“Wilt thou come for the white man and his wife at the rising of the tide?”
The Indian grunted in acquiescence.
“And thou, Jean Jacques, whither wilt thou go?”
He pointed southward.
“Ah, to the new fort! There thou wilt be safe.”
“And thither am I to bear thee, maiden, when the trail is safe for thee.”