“Do?”
She straightened by the door, and the hand on the lintel gripped until the nails went white.
“Do? Anything save sit with closed gates in safety while savages burn your factor at the stake! The Hudson's Bay brigade comes from York this very month. What easier than to meet it and get help of men and guns?”
“Nay,” said Laroux gently; “you do but dream, Maren.”
Whereat the girl turned abruptly from the doorway and went down among the cabins.
Here and there in the doorways groups of women stood together, their voices hushed and trouble in their eyes.
As Maren passed, seeing nothing to right or left, they looked in pity upon her.
The heart of this woman was drifting with the canoes,—but with which man?
“'Tis the gay Nor'wester with his golden curls,” whispered Tessa Bibye sympathetically.
“The Nor'wester? 'Tis little you know, truly, Tessa,” said the young wife of old Corlier. “What maid in her senses would look twice at yonder be-laced dandy when a man like Anders McElroy stood near?”