"Josephine has told him. He is to believe that I went out to see a trapper over on the Pipestone."
"It is strange," mused Philip, speaking half to himself. "A strange reason indeed it must be to make Josephine say these false things."
"It is like driving sharp claws into her soul," affirmed Jean.
"I believe that I know something of what happened to-night, Jean. Are we any nearer to the end—to the big fight?"
"It is coming, M'sieur. I am more than ever certain of that. The third night from this will tell us."
"And on that night—"
Philip waited expectantly.
"We will know," replied Jean in a voice which convinced him that the half-breed would say no more. Then he added: "It will not be strange if Josephine does not go with you on the sledge-drive to-morrow, M'sieur. It will also be curious if there is not some change in her, for she has been under a great strain. But make as if you did not see it. Pass your time as much as possible with the master of Adare. Let him not guess. And now I am going to ask you to let me go to bed. My head aches. It is from the blow."
"And there is nothing I can do for you, Jean?'
"Nothing, M'sieur."