I felt the flush deepen on my cheeks and my eyes fell.
“’Tis most kind of you to say so, Monsieur,” was all I could falter.
“Ay!” he interrupted, “we are both so alone in this New France ’tis well we help each other. I will find you a way out, Mademoiselle––perhaps this night; if not, then in the woods yonder. They are filled with secrets, yet have room to hide another.”
“But not violence, Monsieur!”
“Planning and scheming is not my way, nor am I good at it. A soldier of La Salle needs more to understand action, and the De Artigny breed has ever had faith in steel. I seek no quarrel, yet if occasion arise this messenger of La Barre will find me quite ready. I know not what may occur. Mademoiselle; I merely pledge you my word of honor that Cassion will no longer seek your hand. The method you must trust to me.”
Our eyes met, and his were kind and smiling, with a confidence in their depths that strangely heartened me. Before I realized the action I had given him my hand.
“I do, Monsieur, and question no more, though I pray for peace between you. Our time is up, Sister?”
“Yes, my child,” she stood in the doorway, appearing like some saintly image. “The Mother sent me.”
De Artigny released my hand, and bowed low.