"A message and a gift from Monsieur Iberville." He drew the letter and
the ring from his pocket and held them out, repeating Iberville's
message. There was a troubled look in her eyes and she was trembling a
little now, but she spoke clearly.

"Monsieur," she said, "you will tell Monsieur Iberville that I may not;
I am married."

"So, madame," he said. "But I still must give my message." When he had
done so he said: "Will you take the letter?" He held it out.

There was a moment's doubt and then she took it, but she did not speak.

"Shall I carry no message, madame?"

She hesitated. Then, at last: "Say that I wish him good fortune--with
all my heart."

"Good fortune--ah, madame!" he answered, in a meaning tone.

"Say that I pray God may bless him, and make him a friend of my country,"
she added in a low, almost broken voice, and she held out her hand to
him.

The gallant woodsman pressed it to his lips. "I am sorry, madame," he
replied, with an admiring look.

She shook her head sadly. "Adieu, monsieur!" she said steadily and very
kindly.