frontier fortress, where no man can aid her without espousing her
husband's quarrel!--while hundreds of evil women degrade the courts of
Europe. But I can only do mine errand and go. And you will best mend
your own expedition at this time by a new start from Montreal, Father
Jogues."

The priest turned around on the ascent and looked toward the vanishing
Indian camp. He was examining as self-indulgence his strong and
gentlemanly desire not to involve Madame La Tour in further troubles by
proselyting her people.

"Whatever way is pointed out to me, Monsieur Corlaer," he answered,
"that way I must take. For the mending of an expedition rests not in the
hands of the poor instrument that attempts it."

Their soldier signaled for the gates to be opened, and they entered the
fort. Marie was on her morning round of inspection. She had just given
back to a guard the key of the powder magazine. Well, storehouse,
fuel-house, barracks, were in military readiness. But refuse stuff had
been thrown in spots which her people were now severely cleaning. She
greeted her returning guests, and heard the report of Zélie's husband. A
lace mantle was drawn over her head and fastened under the chin,
throwing out from its blackness the warm brown beauty of her face.

"So our Indians are leaving the falls already?" she repeated, fixing
Zélie's husband with a serious eye.

"Yes, madame," witnessed Zélie. "I myself saw women packing tents."

"Have they heard any rumor which scared them off early,--our good lazy