“Good! and by all the gods, I will give him fair cause. The thought pleases me, for rather would I be your soldier than my own. See, how it dovetails in––I meet you at the convent and pledge you my aid; some spy bears word of our conference to Monsieur, and an hour later I receive word that if I have more to do with you I die. I smile at the warning and send back a message of insult. Then my invitation to this ball is withdrawn, and, later still, La Barre even advises that I be assassinated at the least excuse. ’Twould seem they deem you of importance, Mademoiselle.”
“You make it no more than a joke?”
“Far from it; the very fact that I know the men makes it matter of grave concern. I might, indeed, smile did it concern myself alone, but I have your interests in mind––you have honored me by calling me your only friend, and now I know not where I may serve you best––in the wilderness, or here in Quebec?”
“There can nothing injure me here, Monsieur, not with Cassion traveling to the Illinois. No doubt he will leave behind him those who will observe my movements––that cannot harm.”
“It is Hugo Chevet, I fear.”
“Chevet! my uncle––I do not understand.”
“No, for he is your uncle, and you know him only in such relationship. He may have been to you kind and indulgent. I do not ask. But to those who meet him in the world he is a big, cruel, savage brute, who would sacrifice even you, if you stood in his way. And now if you fail to marry Cassion, you will so stand. He is the one who will guard you, by choice of the Commissaire, and orders of La Barre, and he will do his part well.”
“I can remain with the sisters.”
“Not in opposition to the Governor; they would never dare antagonize him; tomorrow you will return with Chevet.”