can endure loneliness of soul. I must thrust you back upon yourself.
There must be no woman in the camp. Come, monsieur, let us not talk of
this longer. Are you ready?" And not waiting for assent, I led the
way back to camp without word or look; I even kept myself from putting
out a helping hand when I heard the steps behind me falter and almost
fall.

As we came to the fire and met the men, I found myself fingering my
sword. But it was a useless motion. The oafs saw nothing amiss,
though to me the very air was shouting the secret. We had a fat
larder, broiled whitefish and bear-steak from the kill of the day
before, and the men were thinking much of their stomachs and not at all
of the Englishman, save when they turned their backs upon him to show
that he was out of favor. So we sat down to meat. We sat a long time,
while the twilight faded and the stars pricked out clear, and there was
little talk between us. I was sitting at meat with a woman, a woman of
my own class, and I dared not offer her even the courtesy that one may
show a serving maid. Well, I would take what each day might bring and
not look ahead. I would think nothing about this person, as man or
woman, but would fill my thought with the purpose that had brought me
to the beaver lands. I told the men to be early astir that we might
make a longer day of travel on the morrow.

The morrow was gray. The wind was in the east, and the sunrise watery
and streaked with slate-colored bands. The water was clammy and
opaque, repellent to touch and sight. The way looked dreary, and the
woman carried her head high, as if in challenge to her courage. She
had risen early, and had gone through her trifling share in the
preparations, and though she had avoided me, I could see that she was
ready to play her part.