Beyond the Frontier. Randall Parrish

selecting this lad De Artigny as a guide; he may play you false.”

      “Small chance he’ll have for any trick.”

      “Perchance not, yet the way is long, and he knows the wilderness. I advise you guard him well. I shall send to you for council in an hour; there are papers yet unsigned.”

      He turned away to greet those who followed us in line, while we moved forward into the crowd about the walls. Cassion whispered in my ear, telling me bits of gossip about this and that one who passed us, seeking to exhibit his wit, and impress me with his wide acquaintance. I must have made fit response, for his voice never ceased, yet I felt no interest in the stories, and disliked the man more than ever for his vapid boasting. The truth is my thought was principally concerned with De Artigny, and whether he would really gain admission. Still of this I had small 52 doubt, for his was a daring to make light of guards, or any threat of enemies, if desire urged him on. And I had his pledge.

      My eyes watched every moving figure, but the man was not present, my anxiety increasing as I realized his absence, and speculated as to its cause. Could Cassion have interfered? Could he have learned of our interview, and used his influence secretly to prevent our meeting again? It was not impossible, for the man was seemingly in close touch with Quebec, and undoubtedly possessed power. My desire to see De Artigny was now for his own sake––to warn him of danger and treachery. The few words I had caught passing between La Barre and Cassion had to me a sinister meaning; they were a promise of protection from the Governor to his lieutenant, and this officer of La Salle’s should be warned that he was suspected and watched. There was more to La Barre’s words than appeared openly; it would be later, when they were alone, that he would give his real orders to Cassion. Yet I felt small doubt as to what those orders would be, nor of the failure of the lieutenant to execute them. The wilderness hid many a secret, and might well conceal another. In some manner that night I must find De Artigny, and whisper my warning.

      These were my thoughts, crystallizing into purpose, yet I managed to smile cheerily into the face of the 53 Commissaire and make such reply to his badinage as gave him pleasure. Faith, the man loved himself so greatly the trick was easy, the danger being that I yield too much to his audacity. No doubt he deemed me a simple country maid, overawed by his gallantries, nor did I seek to undeceive him, even permitting the fool to press my hand, and whisper his soft nonsense. Yet he ventured no further, seeing that in my eyes warning him of danger if he grew insolent. I danced with him twice, pleased to know I had not forgotten the step, and then, as he felt compelled to show attention to the Governor’s lady, he left me in charge of a tall, thin officer––a Major Callons, I think––reluctantly, and disappeared in the crowd. Never did I part with one more willingly, and as the Major spoke scarcely a dozen words during our long dance together I found opportunity to think, and decide upon a course of action.

      As the music ceased my only plan was to avoid Cassion as long as possible, and, at my suggestion, the silent major conducted me to a side room, and then disappeared seeking refreshments. I grasped the opportunity to slip through the crowd, and find concealment in a quiet corner. It was impossible for me to conceive that De Artigny would fail to come. He had pledged his word, and there was that about the man to give me faith. Ay! he would come, unless there had 54 already been treachery. My heart beat swiftly at the thought, my eyes eagerly searching the moving figures in the ballroom. Yet there was nothing I could do but wait, although fear was already tugging at my heart.

      I leaned forward scanning each passing face, my whole attention concentrated on the discovery of De Artigny. Where he came from I knew not, but his voice softly speaking at my very ear brought me to my feet, with a little cry of relief. The joy of finding him must have found expression in my eyes, in my eager clasping of his hand, for he laughed.

      “’Tis as though I was truly welcomed, Mademoiselle,” he said, and gravely enough. “Could I hope that you were even seeking me yonder?”

      “It would be the truth, if you did,” I responded frankly, “and I was beginning to doubt your promise.”

      “Nor was it as easily kept as I supposed when given,” he said under his breath. “Come with me into this side room where we can converse more freely––I can perceive Monsieur Cassion across the floor. No doubt he is seeking you, and my presence here will give the man no pleasure.”

      I glanced in the direction indicated, and although I saw nothing of the Commissaire, I slipped back willingly enough through the lifted curtain into the deserted room behind. It was evidently an office of some kind, for it contained only a desk and some chairs, and 55 was unlighted, except for the gleam from between the curtains. The outer wall was so thick a considerable space separated the room from the window, which was screened off by heavy drapery. De Artigny appeared familiar with these details, for, with scarcely a glance about, he led me into this recess, where we stood concealed. Lights from below illumined our faces, and revealed an open window looking down on the court. My companion glanced out at the scene beneath, and his eyes and lips smiled as he turned again and faced me.

      “But, Monsieur,” I questioned puzzled, “why was it not easy? You met with trouble?”

      “Hardly that; a mere annoyance. I may only suspect the cause, but an hour after I left you my ticket of invitation was withdrawn.”

      “Withdrawn? by whom?”

      “The order of La Barre, no doubt; an officer of his guard called on me to say he preferred my absence.”

      “’Twas the work of Cassion.”

      “So I chose to believe, especially as he sent me word later to remain at the boats, and have them in readiness for departure at any minute. Some inkling of our meeting must have reached his ears.”

      “But how came you here, then?”

      He laughed in careless good humor.

      “Why that was no trick! Think you I am one to 56 disappoint because of so small an obstacle? As the door was refused me I sought other entrance and found it here.” He pointed through the open window. “It was not a difficult passage, but I had to wait the withdrawal of the guards below, which caused my late arrival. Yet this was compensated for by discovering you so quickly. My only fear was encountering someone I knew while seeking you on the floor.”

      “You entered through this window?”

      “Yes; there is a lattice work below.”

      “And whose office is that within?”

      “My guess is that of Colonel Delguard, La Barre’s chief of staff, for there was a letter for him lying on the desk. What difference? You are glad I came?”

      “Yes, Monsieur, but not so much for my own sake, as for yours. I bring you warning that you adventure with those who would do you evil if the chance arrive.”

      “Bah! Monsieur Cassion?”

      “’Tis not well for you to despise the man, for he has power and is a villain at heart in spite of all his pretty ways. ’Tis said he has the cruelty of a tiger, and in this case La Barre gives him full authority.”

      “Hath the Governor grudge against me also?”

      “Only that you are follower of La Salle, and loyal, while he is heart and hand with the other faction. He chided Cassion for accepting you as guide, and advised close watch lest you show treachery.”

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      “You overheard their talk?”

      “Ay! they made no secret of it; but I am convinced La Barre has more definite instructions to give in private, for he asked the Commissaire to come to him later for conference. I felt that you should be told, Monsieur.”

      De Artigny leaned motionless against the window ledge, and the light streaming in through the opening of the draperies revealed the gravity of his expression. For the moment he remained silent, turning the affair over in his mind.

      “I thank you, Mademoiselle,” he said finally, and touched my hand, “for your report