He started at the sound of my voice, and stared at me for what seemed a long time without a word. “Yes, you are safe,” he said, at length, but in halting English; “these Indians will do you no harm. They will carry you to some post farther south, whence word will be sent to your friends among the English, and you will be ransomed. Yes, you are safe.”
“O, mon père,” I implored, breaking into French, for I saw that was his tongue, “do not speak so! You will not leave us with them! For the sake of the mother who bore you, listen to me!” and I threw myself on my knees and stretched out my hands to him, but he drew back as if my touch would have hurt him. “Do not forsake us; take us with you! We are women, and are helpless. I do not desire to reach any English post. I have no friends among the English. Do not abandon us to these men; we are both women, and I am a lady.”
“I see that,” he said, more softly. “Where do you wish to go?”
“To Louisbourg, mon père; our ship was bound there when we were carried off.”
“Had you any friends on board the ship?”
“My woman had her son.”
“Have you a husband, or a brother, in Louisbourg?”
My face flamed scarlet at the unexpected question, but I answered that I had not, without further explanation.
“Then you cannot go to Louisbourg. It is quite impossible,” he declared, with authority. “Louisbourg is no place for women at any time, least of all now. The important matter is to set you free from these savages, but you may rest without alarm to-night, and I will decide what is to be done before morning.”
He spake these last words wearily, like a man who had received a hurt, which moved my heart towards him in quick pity, and I waited to see if he would speak again, but he only raised his hand and blessed me.