Beyond the Frontier. Randall Parrish

know not how I managed it, yet I raised my eyes to his, simulating a surprise I was far from feeling.

      “Alone, Monsieur? I am Adele la Chesnayne; if you doubt, the way of discovery is open without word from me.”

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      His suspicious, doubting eyes never left my face, and there was sneer in his voice as he answered.

      “Bah! I am not in love to be played with by a witch. Perchance ’tis not easy for you to lie. Well, we will see. Look within the alcove, Cassion.”

      The Commissaire was there even before the words of command were uttered, and my heart seemed to stop beating as his heavy hand tore aside the drapery. I leaned on the desk, bracing myself, expecting a blow, a struggle; but all was silent. Cassion, braced, and expectant, peered into the shadows, evidently perceiving nothing; then stepped within, only to instantly reappear, his expression that of disappointment. The blood surged back to my heart, and my lips smiled.

      “No one is there, Monsieur,” he reported, “but the window is open.”

      “And not a dangerous leap to the court below,” returned La Barre thoughtfully. “So far you win, Mademoiselle. Now will you answer me––were you alone there ten minutes ago?”

      “It is useless for me to reply, Monsieur,” I answered with dignity, “as it will in no way change your decision.”

      “You have courage, at least.”

      “The inheritance of my race, Monsieur.”

      “Well, we’ll test it then, but not in the form you anticipate.” He smiled, but not pleasantly, and 71 resumed his seat at the desk. “I propose closing your mouth, Mademoiselle, and placing you beyond temptation. Monsieur Cassion, have the lieutenant at the door enter.”

      I stood in silence, wondering at what was about to occur; was I to be made prisoner? or what form was my punishment to assume? The power of La Barre I knew, and his stern vindictiveness, and well I realized the fear and hate which swept his mind, as he recalled the conversation I had overheard. He must seal my lips to protect himself––but how? As though in a daze I saw Cassion open the door, speak a sharp word to one without, and return, followed by a young officer, who glanced curiously aside at me, even as he saluted La Barre, and stood silently awaiting his orders. The latter remained a moment motionless, his lips firm set.

      “Where is Father Le Guard?”

      “In the Chapel, Monsieur; he passed me a moment ago.”

      “Good; inform the père that I desire his presence at once. Wait! know you the fur trader, Hugo Chevet?”

      “I have seen the man, Monsieur––a big fellow, with a shaggy head.”

      “Ay, as savage as the Indians he has lived among. He is to be found at Eclair’s wine shop in the Rue St. 72 Louis. Have your sentries bring him here to me. Attend to both these matters.”

      “Yes, Monsieur.”

      La Barre’s eyes turned from the disappearing figure of the officer, rested a moment on my face, and then smiled grimly as he fronted Cassion. He seemed well pleased with himself, and to have recovered his good humor.

      “A delightful surprise for you, Monsieur Cassion,” he said genially, “and let us hope no less a pleasure for the fair lady. Be seated, Mademoiselle; there may be a brief delay. You perceive my plan, no doubt?”

      Cassion did not answer, and the Governor looked at me.

      “No, Monsieur.”

      “And yet so simple, so joyful a way out of this unfortunate predicament. I am surprised. Cassion here might not appreciate how nicely this method will answer to close your lips, but you, remembering clearly the private conference between myself and Colonel Delguard, should grasp my purpose at once. Your marriage is to take place tonight, Mademoiselle.”

      “Tonight! my marriage! to whom?”

      “Ah! is there then more than one prospective bridegroom? Monsieur Cassion surely I am not in error that you informed me of your engagement to Mademoiselle la Chesnayne?”

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      “She has been pledged me in marriage, Monsieur––the banns published.”

      I sat with bowed head, my cheeks flaming.

      “’Tis then as I understood,” La Barre went on, chuckling. “The lady is over modest.”

      “I have made no pledge,” I broke in desperately. “Monsieur spoke to my Uncle Chevet, not I!”

      “Yet you were told! You made no refusal?”

      “Monsieur, I could not; they arranged it all, and, besides, it was not to be until Monsieur returned from the West. I do not love him; I thought––”

      “Bah! what is love? ’Tis enough that you accepted. This affair is no longer one of affection; it has become the King’s business, a matter of State. I decide it is best for you to leave Quebec; ay! and New France, Mademoiselle. There is but one choice, imprisonment here, or exile into the wilderness.” He leaned forward staring into my face with his fierce, threatening eyes. “I feel it better that you go as Monsieur Cassion’s wife, and under his protection. I decree that so you shall go.”

      “Alone––with––with––Monsieur Cassion?”

      “One of his party. ’Tis my order also that Hugo Chevet be of the company. Perchance a year in the wilderness may be of benefit to him, and he might be of value in watching over young De Artigny.”

      Never have I felt more helpless, more utterly alone. 74 I knew all he meant, but my mind grasped no way of escape. His face leered at me as through a mist, yet as I glanced aside at Cassion it only brought home to me a more complete dejection. The man was glad––glad! He had no conscience, no shame. To appeal to him would be waste of breath––a deeper humiliation. Suddenly I felt cold, hard, reckless; ay! they had the power to force me through the unholy ceremony. I was only a helpless girl; but beyond that I would laugh at them; and Cassion––if he dared––

      The door opened, and a lean priest in long black robe entered noiselessly, bending his shaven head to La Barre, as his crafty eyes swiftly swept our faces.

      “Monsieur desired my presence?”

      “Yes, Père le Guard, a mission of happiness. There are two here to be joined in matrimony by bonds of Holy Church. We but wait the coming of the lady’s guardian.”

      The père must have interpreted the expression of my face.

      “’Tis regular, Monsieur?” he asked.

      “By order of the King,” returned La Barre sternly. “Beyond that it is not necessary that you inquire. Ah! Monsieur Chevet! they found you then? I have a pleasant surprise for you. ’Tis hereby ordered that you accompany Commissaire Cassion to the Illinois country as interpreter, to be paid from my private fund.”

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      Chevet stared into the Governor’s dark face, scarce able to comprehend, his brain dazed from heavy drinking.

      “The Illinois country! I––Hugo Chevet? ’Tis some joke, Monsieur.”

      “None at all, as you will discover presently, my man. I do not jest on the King’s service.”

      “But my land, Monsieur; my niece?”

      La Barre permitted himself a laugh.

      “Bah! let the land lie fallow; ’twill cost little while you draw a wage, and as for Mademoiselle, ’tis that you may accompany her I make choice. Stand back; you have your orders, and now I’ll show you good reason.” He stood up, and placed his hand on Cassion’s arm. “Now my dear, Francois, if you will join the lady.”

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