maid, gray-toned and subdued; the roughest wind never ruffled her
smoothness. She made her father know that she had come with Beauport
women and men from Quebec, as soon as any were allowed to leave the
fort, to escort her. She leaned against the bed, soft as a fleece,
yielding her head to her father's painful fondling. There was no
heroism in Clementine; but her snug domestic ways made him happy in
his house.

"Sainte-Hélène is wounded," observed Saint-Denis.

She cast a glance of fright over her shoulder.

"Did you not see him when you came in?"

"I saw some one; but it is to you that I have been wishing to come
since Wednesday night."

"I shall get well; they tell me it is not so bad with me. But how is
it with Sainte-Hélène?"

"I do not know, father."

"Where is young Saint-Castin? Ask him."

"He is helping the surgeon, father."

"Poor child, how she trembles! I would thou hadst stayed in the fort,
for these sights are unfit for women. New France can as ill spare him
as we can, Clementine. Was that his groan?"