“I have made no pledge,” I broke in desperately. “Monsieur spoke to my Uncle Chevet, not I!”
“Yet you were told! You made no refusal?”
“Monsieur, I could not; they arranged it all, and, besides, it was not to be until Monsieur returned from the West. I do not love him; I thought––”
“Bah! what is love? ’Tis enough that you accepted. This affair is no longer one of affection; it has become the King’s business, a matter of State. I decide it is best for you to leave Quebec; ay! and New France, Mademoiselle. There is but one choice, imprisonment here, or exile into the wilderness.” He leaned forward staring into my face with his fierce, threatening eyes. “I feel it better that you go as Monsieur Cassion’s wife, and under his protection. I decree that so you shall go.”
“Alone––with––with––Monsieur Cassion?”
“One of his party. ’Tis my order also that Hugo Chevet be of the company. Perchance a year in the wilderness may be of benefit to him, and he might be of value in watching over young De Artigny.”
Never have I felt more helpless, more utterly alone. 74 I knew all he meant, but my mind grasped no way of escape. His face leered at me as through a mist, yet as I glanced aside at Cassion it only brought home to me a more complete dejection. The man was glad––glad! He had no conscience, no shame. To appeal to him would be waste of breath––a deeper humiliation. Suddenly I felt cold, hard, reckless; ay! they had the power to force me through the unholy ceremony. I was only a helpless girl; but beyond that I would laugh at them; and Cassion––if he dared––
The door opened, and a lean priest in long black robe entered noiselessly, bending his shaven head to La Barre, as his crafty eyes swiftly swept our faces.
“Monsieur desired my presence?”
“Yes, Père le Guard, a mission of happiness. There are two here to be joined in matrimony by bonds of Holy Church. We but wait the coming of the lady’s guardian.”