backward blow, and he did not make enough allowance for the natural
antagonism of a young girl. Her beautiful free motion was something to
watch. She was a convert whose penances were usually worked out afoot,
for Father Petit knew better than to shut her up.

Saint-Castin had never dreamed there were such women. She was like a
nymph out of a tree, without human responsiveness, yet with round arms
and waist and rosy column of neck, made to be helplessly adored. He
remembered the lonesome moods of his early youth. They must have been
a premonition of his fate in falling completely under the spell of an
unloving woman.

Saint-Castin took a roundabout course, and went to Madockawando's
lodge, near the fort. All the members of the family, except the old
chief, were away at the sugar-making. The great Abenaqui's dignity
would not allow him to drag in fuel to the fire, so he squatted
nursing the ashes, and raked out a coal to light tobacco for himself
and Saint-Castin. The white sagamore had never before come in full
uniform to a private talk, and it was necessary to smoke half an hour
before a word could be said.

There was a difference between the chatter of civilized men and the
deliberations of barbarians. With La Hontan, the Baron de Saint-Castin
would have led up to his business by a long prelude on other subjects.
With Madockawando, he waited until the tobacco had mellowed both their
spirits, and then said,--

"Father, I want to marry your daughter in the French way, with priest
and contract, and make her the Baroness de Saint-Castin."