She lifted her eyes and dropped them again.
"This Acadian air has given you a wan color," he noted.
"Did you leave Teunis and Marytje Harmentse well?" quavered Antonia, catching at any scrap. Van Corlaer stared, and answered that Teunis and Marytje were well, and would be grateful to her for inquiring.
"For they also helped to hide this priest from the Mohawks," added Antonia without coherence. Marie could hear her heart laboring.
"What priest?" inquired Van Corlaer, and as he looked around his eyes fell on the cassocked figure at the other table.
"Monsieur Corlaer," spoke Father Jogues, "I was but waiting fit opportunity to recall myself and your blessed charity to your memory."
Van Corlaer's baffled look changed to instant glad recognition.
"That is Father Jogues!"
He met the priest with both hands, and stood head and shoulders taller while they held each other like brothers.
"I thought to find you in Montreal, Father Jogues, and not here, where in my dim fashion I could mistake you for the chaplain of the fort."