The abbe said not a word, but stood gazing off into the night.

"Will you not tell me of my husband?" she repeated. "He is within that
house?" She pointed to the manor-house. "He is in danger, I will go to
him."

She made as if to go to the door, but he stepped before her.

"Madame," he said, "you cannot enter."

Just then the moon shot from behind a cloud, and all their faces could be
seen. There was a flame in Jessica's eyes which Perrot could not stand,
and he turned away. She was too much the woman to plead weakly.

"Tell me," she said, "whose house this is." "Madame, it is Monsieur
Iberville's."

She could not check a gasp, but both the priest and the woodsman saw how
intrepid was the struggle in her, and they both pitied.

"Now I understand! Oh, now I understand!" she cried. "A plot was laid.
He was let escape that he might be cornered here--one single man against
a whole country. Oh, cowards, cowards!"

"Pardon me, madame," said Perrot, bristling up, "not cowards. Your
husband has a chance for his life. You know Monsieur Iberville--he is a
man all honour. More than once he might have had your husband's life,
but he gave it to him."

Her foot tapped the ground impatiently, her hands clasped before her.