“I know Monsieur Cassion, and of what he is capable, and felt that some time there would occur between you a struggle––so at every camping place, where it was possible, I have watched. It was for that purpose I approached the Mission House. I gained glimpse within, and saw Cassion asleep on a bench, and knew you had retired to the chamber above. I was satisfied, and started to return to the camp. On my way back I found Chevet’s body at the edge of the wood. I discovered how he had been killed––a knife thrust in the back.”
“But you made no report; raised no alarm.”
“I was confused, unable to decide what was best for me to do. I had no business being there. My first impulse was to arouse the Mission House; my second to return to camp, and tell the men there. With this last purpose in view I entered the wood to descend the hill, but had hardly done so when I caught sight of you in the moonlight, and remained there hidden, watching your movements with horror. I saw you go straight to the body, assure yourself the man was dead; 225 then return to the Mission House, and enter your room by way of the kitchen roof. Do you realize what your actions naturally meant to me?”
I stared at him, scarcely able to speak, yet in some way my lips formed words.
“You––you thought I did it?”
“What else could I think? You were hiding there; you examined the body; you crept secretly in through the window, and gave no alarm.”
The horror of it all struck me like a blow, and I covered my eyes with my hands, no longer able to restrain my sobs. De Artigny caught my hands, and uncovered my face.
“Do not break down, little girl,” he entreated. “It is better so, for now we understand each other. You sought to shield me, and I endeavored to protect you. ’Twas a strange misunderstanding, and, but for the accident to the canoe, might have had a tragic ending.”
“You would never have told?”
“Of seeing you there? of suspecting you? Could you think that possible?”