I had no glimpse of De Artigny, although my eyes sought him among the others. The chief, Altudah, glided out from among the trees as it grew dusk, made some report, and as quickly disappeared again, leaving me to believe the advance party had made camp beyond the curve of the shore. The priest lingered, and we had our meal together, although it was not altogether to my liking. Once he endeavored to talk with me on the sacredness of marriage, the duty of a wife's obedience to her husband, the stock phrases rolling glibly from his tongue, but my answers gave him small comfort. That he had been so instructed by Cassion was in my mind, and he was sufficiently adroit to avoid antagonizing me by pressing the matter. As we were eating, a party of fur traders, bound east, came ashore in a small fleet of canoes, and joined the men below, building their fires slightly up stream. At last Père Allouez left me alone, and descended to them, eager to learn the news from Montreal. Yet, although seemingly I was now left alone, I had no thought of adventuring in the darkness, as I felt convinced the watchful priest would never have deserted my side had he not known that other eyes were keeping vigil.
From that moment I never felt myself alone or unobserved. Cassion in person did not make himself obnoxious, except that I was always seated beside him in the boat, subject to his conversation, and attentions. Ever I had the feeling the man was testing me, and venturing how far he dared to go. Not for a moment did I dare to lower my guard in his presence, and this constant strain of watchfulness left me nervous, and bitter of speech.
In every respect I was a prisoner, and made to realize my helplessness. I know not what Cassion suspected, what scraps of information he may have gained from Chevet, but he watched me like a hawk. Never, I am sure, was I free of surveillance--in the boat under his own eye; ashore accompanied everywhere by Père Allouez, except as I slept, and then even some unknown sentry kept watch of the tent in which I rested. However it was managed I know not, but my uncle never approached me alone, and only twice did I gain glimpse of Sieur de Artigny--once, when his canoe returned to warn us of dangerous water ahead, and once when he awaited us beside the landing at Montreal. Yet even these occasions yielded me new courage, for, as our eyes met I knew he was still my friend, waiting, as I was, the opportunity for a better understanding. This knowledge brought tears of gratitude to my eyes, and a thrill of hope to my heart. I was no longer utterly alone.