“You startled me,” said Law, simply.  “I was thinking.”

A sudden jealous wave of woman’s divining intuition came upon the woman at his side.  “I doubt not,” said she, bitterly, “that I could name the subject of your thought!  Why?  Why sit here and dream of her, when here am I, who deserve everything that you can give?”

She stood erect, her eyes flashing, her arms outstretched, her bosom panting under the fringed garments, her voice ringing as it might have been with the very essence of truth and passion.  Law looked at her steadily.  But the shadow did not lift from his brow, though he looked long and pondered.

“Come,” said he, at length, gently.  “None the less we are as we are.  In every game we take our chances, and in every game we pay our debts.  Let us go back to the camp.”

As they turned back down the beach Law saw standing at a little distance his lieutenant, Du Mesne, who hesitated as though he would speak.

“What is it, Du Mesne?” asked Law, excusing himself with a gesture and joining the voyageur where he stood.

“Why, Monsieur L’as,” said Du Mesne, “I am making bold to mention it, but in good truth there was some question in my mind as to what might be our plans.  The spring, as you know, is now well advanced.  It was your first design to go far into the West, and there to set up your station for the trading in furs.  Now there have come these little incidents which have occasioned us some delay.  While I have not doubted your enterprise, Monsieur, I bethought me perhaps it might be within your plans now to go but little farther on—­perhaps, indeed, to turn back—­”

“To go back?” said Law.

“Well, yes; that is to say, Monsieur L’as, back again down the Great Lakes.”

“Have you then known me so ill as this, Du Mesne?” said Law.  “It has not been my custom to set backward foot on any sort of trail.”

“Oh, well, to be sure, Monsieur, that I know quite well,” replied Du Mesne, apologetically.  “I would only say that, if you do go forward, you will do more than most men accomplish on their first voyage au large in the wilderness.  There comes to many a certain shrinking of the heart which leads them to find excuse for not faring farther on.  Yonder, as you know, Monsieur, lie Quebec and Montreal, somewhat better fitted for the abode of monsieur and madame than the tents of the wilderness.  Back of that, too, as we both very well know, Monsieur, lie London and old England; and I had been dull of eye indeed did I not recognize the opportunities of a young gallant like yourself.  Now, while I know yourself to be a man of spirit, Monsieur L’as, and while I should welcome you gladly as a brother of the trail, I had only thought that perhaps you would pardon me if I did but ask your purpose at this time.”

Law bent his head in silence for a moment.  “What know you of this forward trail, Du Mesne?” said he.  “Have you ever gone beyond this point in your own journeyings?”