"If you do not mind I will hasten on. And to-morrow I shall be glad to come and thank you again and deliver my message."
"Adieu," responded Jeanne, with a delicious gayety.
He was off like a bird and soon out of sight. Jeanne drew her canoe up to a quiet part of the town, below the gate. The day was ending, as holidays often did, in a sort of carouse. Men were playing on fiddles, crowds of men and boys were dancing. By some flaring light others were playing cards or dominoes. The two threaded their way quickly along, Jeanne with her head and face nearly hidden by the big kerchief that was like a shawl.
"How queer it was, Pani!" and she laughed. Her eyes were like stars in their pleasure. "And to think Monsieur St. Armand has sent me a message! Do you suppose he is in France? I asked the master to show me France--he has a map of these strange countries."
"A map!" gasped Pani, as if it were an evil spirit.
"Why, it is like a picture with lines all about it. This is France. This is Spain. And England, where the English come from. I should think they would--it is such a little place. Ever so many other countries as well. But after all I don't understand about their going round--"
"We should have seen him anyhow if he had not fallen into the river. And it was funny! If he had heeded what I said--it was lucky we saw the tree as we went down."
"He will give due notice of it, no doubt. The water is so clear that it can easily be seen in the daytime. Otherwise I should feel troubled."
Jeanne nodded with gay affirmation. She was in exuberant spirits, and could hardly eat.
Then they sat out in the doorway, shaded somewhat by the clinging vines. From below there was a sound of music. Up at the Fort the band was playing. There was no moon, but the stars were bright and glittering in strange tints. Now and then a party rather merry with wine and whisky trolled out a noisy stave that had been imported from the mother country years ago about Jacques and his loves and his good wine.
Presently the great bell clanged out. That was a signal for booths to shut, for deerhide curtains to be drawn. Some obstreperous soldiers were marched to the guardhouse. Some drunken revelers crept into a nook beside a storage box or hid in a tangle of vines to sleep until morning.