One window high in the wall showed the misty darkness which lay upon
Fundy Bay. The room was chilly.

"Monsieur Corlaer is gone, Antonia," said Marie.

Antonia's shadow leaped, magnifying the young Dutchwoman's start.

"Madame, you have not sent him off on his journey in the night?"

"I sent him not. I begged him to remain. But he had such cold welcome
from his own countrywoman that he chose the woods rather than the
hospitality of Fort St. John."

Much as Antonia stirred and clinked flasks, her sobs grew audible behind
the screen. She ran out with her arms extended and threw herself on the
floor at Marie's knees, transformed by anguish. Marie in full compassion
drew the girlish creature to her breast, repenting herself while Antonia
wept and shook.

"I was cruel to say Monsieur Corlaer is gone. He has only left the
fortress to camp with his men at the falls. He will be here two more
days, and to-morrow you must urge him to stay our guest."

"Madame, I dare not see him at all!"

"But why should you not see Monsieur Corlaer?"

Antonia settled to the floor and rested her head and arms on her
friend's lap.