“The more reason why he would. I know Monsieur Cassion even better than you do. He has conversed with me pretty freely in the boat, and made clear his hatred of La Salle, and his desire to do him evil. No fear of your chief will ever deter him, for he believes La Barre has sufficient power now in this country to compel obedience. I overheard the Governor’s orders to keep you under close surveillance, and Cassion will jump at the chance of finding you guilty of crime. Now my broken pledge gives him ample excuse.”
“But it was not broken except through necessity,” he urged. “He surely cannot blame you because I saved your life.”
“I doubt if that has slightest weight. All he will care about is our being here alone together. That fact will obscure all else in his mind.”
“He believes then that you feel interest in me?”
“I have never denied it; the fact which rankles, however, is his knowledge that I feel no interest whatever in him. But we waste time, Monsieur, in fruitless 229 discussion. Our only course is a discovery of Hugo Chevet’s real murderer. Know you anything to warrant suspicion?”
De Artigny did not answer at once, his eyes looking out on the white crested waters of the lake.
“No, Madame,” he said at length gravely. “The last time Chevet was seen alive, so far as I now know, was when he left the boats in company with Monsieur Cassion to return to the Mission House.”
“At dusk?”
“It was already quite dark.”
“They did not arrive together, and Cassion reported that Chevet had remained at the beach in charge of the canoes.”