Antonia owned her suitor's baring of his head, and turned upon the stairs.
"But some alarm drove you out."
Marie leaned over the cell inclosing the stone steps. It was not easy to judge from Antonia's erect bearing what had so startled her. Her friend followed her to the door below, and the voices of the two women hummed indistinctly in that vault-like hollow.
"You have told him," accused Antonia directly. "He is laughing about Mynheer Bronck's hand!"
"He does take a cheerful view of the matter," conceded the lady of the fort. Antonia looked at her with all the asperity which could be expressed in a fair Dutch face.
"As long as I kept my trouble to myself I could bear it. But I show it to another, and the worst befalls me."
"Is that hand lost, Antonia?"
"I cannot find it, or even the box which held it."
"Never accuse me with your eye," said Marie with droll pathos. "If it were lost or destroyed by accident, I could bear without a groan to see you so bereaved. But the slightest thing shall not be filched in Fort St. John. When did you first miss it?"
"A half hour since. I left the box on my table last night instead of replacing it in my chest;—being so disturbed."