IV.

THE WIDOW ANTONIA.


Antonia sat in tense quiet, though whitened even across the lips where
all the color of her face usually appeared; and a stalwart and courtly
man presented himself in the hall. Some of the best blood of the Dutch
Republic had evidently gone to his making. He had the vital and reliable
presence of a master in affairs, and his clean-shaven face had firm
mouth-corners. Marie rose up without pause to meet him. He was freshly
and carefully dressed in clothes carried for this purpose across the
wilderness, and gained favor even with Lady Dorinda, as a man bearing
around him in the New World the atmosphere of Europe. He made his
greeting in French, and explained that he was passing through Acadia on
a journey to Montreal.

"We stand much beholden to monsieur," said Marie with a quizzical face,
"that he should travel so many hundred leagues out of his way to visit
this poor fort. I have heard that the usual route to Montreal is that
short and direct one up the lake of Champlain."

Van Corlaer's smile rested openly on Antonia as he answered,--

"Madame, a man's most direct route is the one that leads to his object."

"Doubtless, monsieur. And you are very welcome to this fort. We have