“Lafreniere?” I uttered the name in astonishment.  “Then why am I not asked to assist him?”

The thoughtless exclamation cut her deeply with its seeming implication of neglect, yet the words she strove to speak failed to come.  The priest rebuked me gravely: 

“Thou doest great injustice by such inconsiderate speech, my son.  There are hearts loyal to France in this province, who would count living a crime if it were won at the cost of Lafreniere.  He hath been already offered liberty, yet deliberately chooseth to remain and meet his fate.  Holy Mother! we can do no more.”

I bent, taking her moist hands gently between my own.

“I beg you pardon me, Madame; I am not yet wholly myself, and intended no such offence as my hasty words would seem to imply.  One’s manners do not improve with long dwelling among savages.”

She met my stumbling apology with a radiant smile.

“I know your heart too well to misjudge.  Yet it hurt me to feel you could deem me thoughtless toward my father.”

“You have seen him since his arrest?”

“Once only—­at the Captain-General’s office, before they were condemned and taken aboard the flag-ship.”

“But the prisoners are Catholics; surely they are permitted the offices of the Church at such a time?”

A hard look swept across the Capuchin’s pale, ascetic face.

“Oh, ay!  I had quite forgotten,” he explained bitterly.  “They enjoy the ministrations of Father Cassati, of our Order, as representative of Holy Church.”

“Pouf!” I muttered gloomily.  “It is bad to have the guard-lines drawn so closely.  Besides, I know little about the way of ships; how they are arranged within, or even along the open decks.  We meet them not in the backwoods, so this is an adventure little to my taste.  It would hardly be prudent, even could I obtain safe footing there, to attempt following a trail in the dark when I knew not where it led.  I must either see the path I am to travel by good daylight, or else procure a guide.  This Father Cassati might answer.  Is he one to trust?”

The priest turned his head away with a quick gesture of indignant dissent.

“Nay!” he exclaimed emphatically.  “He must never be approached upon such a matter.  He can be sweet enough with all men to their faces; the words of his mouth are as honey; yet he would be true to none.  It is not according to the canons of our Order for me thus to speak, yet I only give utterance to truth as I know it in the sight of God.  Not even the Spaniards themselves have faith in him.  He has not been permitted to set foot upon shore since first he went aboard.”

“And you have no plan, no suggestion to offer for my guidance?”

“Mon Dieu, no!” he cried dramatically.  “I cannot think the first thing.”

“And you, Madame?”

She was kneeling close beside a large chair, her fine dark eyes eagerly searching my face.