I hesitated; he had furnished me with an excuse, a reason. I could permit him to believe the boat had not approached close enough to be signaled. It was, for an instant, a temptation, yet as I looked into his eyes I could not tell the lie. More, I felt the uselessness of any such attempt to deceive; he would discover the fire extinguished by dirt thrown on it, and thus learn 241 the truth. Far better that I confess frankly, and justify my action.
“The canoe came here,” I faltered, my voice betraying me. “It went around the point yonder, and then returned.”
“And you made no signal? You let them go, believing us dead?”
I could not look at him, and I felt my cheeks burn with shame.
“Yes, Monsieur; but listen. No, do not touch me. Perhaps it was all wrong, yet I thought it right. I lay here, hidden from view, and watched them; I extinguished the fire so they could not see the smoke. They came so near I could hear their voices, and distinguish their words, yet I let them pass.”
“Who were in the canoe?”
“Besides the Indians, Cassion, Père Allouez, and the soldier Descartes.”
“He was with me.”
“So I learned from his tale; ’twas he who sought to lift me from the water, and failed. Do you realize, Monsieur, why I chose to remain unseen? Why I have done what must seem an unwomanly act?”
He was still gazing after the canoe, now a mere speck amid the waste of waters, but turned and looked into my face.