CHAPTER XXVII
I SEND FOR DE TONTY
I discovered nothing but clothes at first––moccasins, and numerous undergarments––together with a uniform, evidently new, and quite gorgeous. The removal of these, however, revealed a pocket in the leather side, securely fastened, and on opening this with trembling fingers, a number of papers were disclosed.
Scarcely venturing to breathe, hardly knowing what I hoped to find, I drew these forth, and glanced hastily at them. Surely the man would bear nothing unimportant with him on such a journey; these must be papers of value, for I had noted with what care he had guarded the bag all the way. Yet at first I discovered nothing to reward my search––there was a package of letters, carefully bound with a strong cord, a commission from La Barre, creating Cassion a Major of Infantry, a number of receipts issued in Montreal, a list of goods purchased at St. Ignace, and a roster of men composing the expedition.
At last from one corner of the pocket, I drew forth a number of closely written pages, evidently the Governor’s 310 instruction. They were traced in so fine a hand that I was obliged to return beside the fire to decipher their contents. They were written in detail, largely concerned with matters of routine, especially referring to relations with the garrison of the fort, and Cassion’s authority over De Baugis, but the closing paragraph had evidently been added later, and had personal interest. It read: “Use your discretion as to De Artigny, but violence will hardly be safe; he is thought too well of by La Salle, and that fox may get Louis’ ear again. We had best be cautious. Chevet, however, has no friends, and, I am told, possesses a list of the La Chesnayne property, and other documents which had best be destroyed. Do not fail in this, nor fear results. We have gone too far to hesitate now.”
I took this page, and thrust it into my breast. It was not much, and yet it might prove the one needed link. I ran through the packet of letters, but they apparently had no bearing on the case. Several were from women; others from officers, mere gossipy epistles of camp and field. Only one was from La Barre, and that contained nothing of importance, except the writer urged Cassion to postpone marriage until his return from the West, adding, “there is no suspicion, and I can easily keep things quiet until then.”
Assured that I had overlooked nothing, I thrust the various articles back, restrapped the bag, and returned 311 to the outer room. As I paused before the fire, someone rapped at the door. I stood erect, my fingers gripping the pistol which I still retained. Again the raps sounded, clearly enough defined in the night, yet not violent, or threatening.
“Who is there?” I asked.
“Your husband, my dear––Francois Cassion.”
“But why do you come? It was the pledge of De Baugis that I was to be left here alone.”