"We stand much beholden to monsieur," said Marie with a quizzical face, "that he should travel so many hundred leagues out of his way to visit this poor fort. I have heard that the usual route to Montreal is that short and direct one up the lake of Champlain."
Van Corlaer's smile rested openly on Antonia as he answered,—
"Madame, a man's most direct route is the one that leads to his object."
"Doubtless, monsieur. And you are very welcome to this fort. We have cause to love the New Netherlanders."
Marie turned to deliver Antonia her guest, but Antonia stood without word or look for him. She seemed a scared Dutch child, bending all her strength and all her inherited quiet on maintaining self-control. He approached her, searching her face with his near-sighted large eyes.
"Had Madame Bronck no expectation of seeing Arendt Van Corlaer in Acadia?"
"No, mynheer," whispered Antonia.
"But since I have come have you nothing to say to me?"
"I hope I see you well, mynheer."
"You might see me well," reproached Van Corlaer, "if you would look at me."