Neither of these good soldiers had the faith in the Iroquois which made
the Jesuit Fathers so trustful. Who could say that all this was not a
huge trap, the lid of which might fall any day?
Madame had wandered off by herself to view the scene from a distance;
but her interest soon died away and her thoughts became concerned with
her strange fate. She regretted her beauty; for she was conscious that
she possessed this physical attribute. It had been her undoing; she
had used it in play, to this miserable end. It was only when large
drops of rain splashed on her face that she realized where she was or
that a storm had burst upon the valley.
"Madame, will you do me the honor to accept my cloak?"
Drearily she inclined her head toward the voice, and became awake to
the actualities of the moment. For the speaker was D'Herouville. It
was the first opportunity he had found to address her, and he was
determined to make the most of it.
"Will you accept my cloak, Madame?" he repeated. "It is raining."
"Accept your cloak? Touch anything which belongs to you? I think not,
Monsieur!" She went on. She even raised her face toward the cold,
sweet-smelling torrents.
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