She looked at me with a little puzzled withdrawal.  “Why do you laugh?” she asked.

I was loath to vex her.  But, indeed, I could not check the tide of joyous excitement that was surging through me.  “I do not know quite why I laugh,” I answered truly.  “Perhaps it is because the sun is shining, and because life looks so fair and rich and full of possibilities.  But, madame, we have been tragic too long; it irks us both.  Tell me, now.  It rests with you.  Shall we paddle northwest and search for your cousin, Lord Starling?”

She thought a moment.  “You wish it?”

“No, madame.”

She turned away.  “Then why ask me?  You said there could not be two heads in this command.”

I sobered.  “Now that was a cat’s scratch,” I rebuked.  “You have never done that before.”

The gentleness of her look made me ashamed.  “You are suspicious of me,” she said a little sadly.  “That was not a scratch, monsieur.  I said what I mean; I prefer to leave the decision in your hands.”

“But your wish?”

“It is confused, monsieur.”

“But your sense of justice in the matter?”

She was silent a moment, and walked up and down.  “I have been trying to see the right ever since I read the letter,” she said quietly.  “This is the best answer I can make.  I think that we had better avoid meeting Lord Starling, monsieur.”

I stepped to her side and matched my pace to hers.  The robin had been joined by his mate, and they were singing.  “Why, madame?” I asked her, and when she was still silent I persisted.  “Why, madame?”

She lifted grave eyes to me.  “I think it will be wise to keep Lord Starling in the wilderness as long as possible,” she answered.  “If he does not find me it may be that he will keep on searching.  He may not,—­but again he may.  On the other hand, if he finds me he will assuredly go home.”

“And if he does go home?  I assure you the wilderness is no sweeter in my eyes while he is here.”

She handed me Cadillac’s letter.  “I think that you know what I mean,” She said.  “Your commandant is a wise man.  Monsieur, I do not understand Lord Starling’s purpose in this journey, but I am afraid that Monsieur de la Mothe-Cadillac is right.  My cousin may be treating secretly with the Indians.  He is a capable man, and not easy to read.  I do not know why he should be here.”

I looked down at her.  “But I know.  He is here to find you.  Have you forgotten what I said to you yesterday morning?  He will not rest till he has found you.  Ought we to save him anxiety?  I can understand that he has suffered.”

But she shook her head, and her eyes as she looked up at me showed the deep sadness that always seemed, while it lasted, to be too rooted ever to be erased.

“You are an idealist, monsieur.  You believe in man’s constancy as I do not.  I cannot believe that I am the moving cause of Lord Starling’s journey.  He would undoubtedly like to find me, for I am of his house and of use to him, but he has other purposes.  Of that I am sure.”