He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, and laughed.
“Pooh! if I waited for that no doubt you would pick out some cockerel without so much as a spur to his heel. ’Tis my choice, not yours, for I know the world, and the man you need. Monsieur Cassion has asked me to favor him, and I think well of it.”
“Cassion! Surely, you would not wed me to that creature?”
He pushed back his chair, regarding me with scowling eyes.
“And where is there a better? Sacre! do you think yourself a queen to choose? ’Tis rare luck you have such an offer. Monsieur Cassion is going to be a great man in this New France; already he has the Governor’s ear, and a commission, with a tidy sum to his credit in Quebec. What more could any girl desire in a husband?”
“But, Monsieur, I do not love him; I do not trust the man.”
“Pah!” He burst into a laugh, rising from the table. Before I could draw back he had gripped me by the arm. “Enough of that, young lady. He is my choice, and that settles it. Love! who ever heard of love nowadays? Ah, I see, you dream already of the young gallant De Artigny. Well, little good that will do you. Why what is he? a mere ragged adventurer, 23 without a sou to his name, a prowling wolf of the forest, the follower of a discredited fur thief. But enough of this; I have told you my will, and you obey. Tomorrow we go to Quebec, to the Governor’s ball, and when Monsieur Cassion returns from his mission you will marry him––you understand?”
The tears were in my eyes, blotting out his threatening face, yet there was naught to do but answer.
“Yes, Monsieur.”
“And this De Artigny; if the fellow ever dares come near you again I’ll crush his white throat between my fingers.”