"Was the old mynheer killed?"

"His pride was killed. He could never hold up his head in England again,
and he had betrayed France. My lord built him a house outside our fort,
yet neither could he endure Acadia. He died in England. You know I
brought his widow thence with me last year. She should have her dower of
lands here, if we can hold them against D'Aulnay de Charnisay."

The lady of the fort shook out Father Jogues' cassock and rose from the
mending. Antonia picked up their tools and flicked bits of thread from
her skirt.

"I am glad it is done, madame, for you look heavy-eyed, as any one
ought, after tossing two nights on Fundy Bay and sewing on a black gown
until midnight cock-crow of the third."

"I am not now fit to face a siege," owned Marie. "We must get to bed.
Though first I crave one more look at the dead baby Zélie hath in
charge. There is a soft weakness in me which mothers even the outcast
young of my enemy."




VII.

A FRONTIER GRAVEYARD.