The Lady of Fort St. John | Page 9

it die on her
knees, and hath not made it known!"
Klussman's glance rested on the body with that abashed hatred which a
man condemns in himself when its object is helpless.
"It is D'Aulnay's child," he muttered, as if stating abundant reason for
its taking off.
"I have brought an agent from D'Aulnay and D'Aulnay's child into our
fortress," said Madame La Tour, speaking toward Marguerite's silent
cover, under which the girl made no sign of being more than a hidden
animal. Her stern face traveled from mother back to tiny body.
There is nothing more touching than the emaciation of a baby. Its
sunken temples and evident cheekbones, the line of its jaw, the piteous
parted lips and thin neck were all reflected in Marie's eyes. Her entire
figure softened, and passionate motherhood filled her. She took the still
pliant shape from Zélie, held it in her hands, and finally pressed it
against her bosom. No sign of mourning came from the woman called
its mother.
"This baby is no enemy of ours," trembled Madame La Tour. "I will
not have it even reproached with being the child of our enemy. It is my
little dead lad come again to my bosom. How soft are his dear limbs!
And this child died for lack of loving while I went with empty arms!
Have you suffered, dear? It is all done now. Mother will give you

kisses,--kisses. Oh, baby,--baby!"
Klussman turned away, and Zélie whimpered. But Le Rossignol thrust
her head around the settle to see what manner of creature it was over
which Madame Marie sobbed aloud.

III.
FATHER ISAAC JOGUES.
The child abandoned by La Tour's enemy had been carried to the upper
floor, and the woman sent with a soldier's wife to the barracks; yet
Madame La Tour continued to walk the stone flags, feeling that small
skeleton on her bosom, and the pressure of death on the air.
Her Swiss lieutenant opened the door and uttered a call. Presently, with
a clatter of hoofs on the pavement, and a mighty rasping of the half-tree
which they dragged, in burst eight Sable Island ponies, shaggy fellows,
smaller than mastiffs, yet with large heads. The settles were hastily
cleared away for them, and they swept their load to the hearth. As soon
as their chain was unhooked, these fairy horses shot out again, and their
joyful neighing could be heard as they scampered around the fort to
their stable. Two men rolled the log into place, set a table and three
chairs, and one returned to the cook-house while the other spread the
cloth.
Claude La Tour and his wife, the maid of honor, seemed to palpitate in
their frames, with the flickering expressions of firelight. The silent
company of these two people was always enjoyed by Le Rossignol. She
knew their disappointments, and liked to have them stir and sigh. In the
daytime, the set courtier smile was sadder than a pine forest. But the
chimney's huge throat drew in the hall's heavy influences, and when the
log was fired not a corner escaped its glow. The man who laid the cloth
lighted candles in a silver candelabrum and set it on the table, and
carried a brand to waxlights which decorated the buffet.
These cheerful preparations for her evening meal recalled Madame La

Tour to the garrison's affairs. Her Swiss lieutenant yet stood by, his
arms and chin settled sullenly on his breast; reluctant to go out and pass
the barrack door where his wife was sheltered.
"Are sentinels set for the night, Klussman?" inquired the lady.
He stood erect, and answered, "Yes, madame."
"I will not wait for my supper before I hear your news. Discharge it
now. I understand the grief you bear, my friend. Your lord will not
forget the faithfulness you show toward us."
"Madame, if I may speak again, put that woman out of the gate. If she
lingers around, I may do her some hurt when I have a loaded piece in
my hand. She makes me less a man."
"But, Klussman, the Sieur de la Tour, whose suspicions of her you have
justified, strictly charged that we restrain her here until his return. She
has seen and heard too much of our condition."
"Our Indians would hold her safe enough, madame."
"Yet she is a soft, feeble creature, and much exhausted. Could she bear
their hard living?"
"Madame, she will requite whoever shelters her with shame and trouble.
If D'Aulnay has turned her forth, she would willingly buy back his
favor by opening this fortress to him. If he has not turned her forth, she
is here by his command. I have thought out all these things; and,
madame, I shall say nothing more, if you prefer to risk