“You see, monsieur,” he continued, “it is impossible to clear the ice unless the tide bears us down; but once the Isle of Orleans is past we shall be in more open water and independent of the current.  Captain Duhamel’s boat is berthed at the same pier as mine upon the opposite side, for they both belong to the Saint-Laurent Company, which leases them in winter.

“We start together, then, but I shall expect to gain several hours during the four days’ journey, for I know the Claire well, and she cannot keep pace with my Sainte-Vierge.  In fact it was only yesterday that the government arranged for me to take over the Sainte-Vierge in place of the Claire, which I have commanded all the winter, for it is essential that the mails reach St. Boniface and the maritime villages as quickly as possible.  So you must bring your lady aboard the Sainte-Vierge by nine to-night.

“I shall telegraph to my friend Danton at St. Boniface to have a sleigh and dogs at your disposal when you arrive, and a tent, food, and sleeping bags,” continued Captain Dubois, “for it must be a hundred and fifty miles from St. Boniface to the Chateau Duchaine.  It is not a journey that a woman should take in winter,” he added with a sympathetic glance at me, “but doubtless your lady knows the way and the journey well.”

The question seemed extraordinarily sagacious; it threw me into confusion.

“You see, M. Danton carried the mails by dog-sleigh before the steamship winter mail service was inaugurated,” he went on, “and now he will be glad of an opportunity to rent his animals.  So I shall wire him tonight to hold them for you alone, and shall describe you to him.  And thus we will check M. Leroux’s designs, which have doubtless included this point.  And so, with half a day’s start, you will have nothing to fear from him—­only remember that he has no scruples.  Still, I do not think he will catch you and Mlle. Jacqueline before you reach Chateau Duchaine,” he ended, chuckling at his sagacity.

“Ah, well, monsieur, who else could your lady be?” he asked, smiling at my surprise.  “I knew well that some day she must leave those wilds.  Besides, did I not convey her here from St. Boniface on my return, less than a week ago, when she pleaded for secrecy?  I suspected something agitated her then.  So it was to find a husband that she departed thus?  When she is home again, kneeling at her old father’s feet, pleading for forgiveness, he will forgive—­have no fear, mon ami.”

So Jacqueline had left her home not more than a week before!  And the captain had no suspicion that she was married then!  Yet Pere Antoine claimed to have performed the ceremony.

To whom?  And where was the man who should have stood in my place and shielded her against Leroux?

I made Dubois understand, not without difficulty, that we were still unmarried.  His face fell when he realized that I was in earnest, but after a little he made the best of the situation, though it was evident that some of the glamour was scratched from the romance in his opinion.