She did it fairly well, but Singing
Arrow could have done it better. In my heart I commended the Indian
for sitting silent, for I knew that the vanity of her sex and the
inherent boastfulness of her savage blood must both be whispering to
her that this was the place to show her superiority. But she resisted.
I had taken her in the canoe with the woman and myself, and putting
Pierre in her canoe had bidden him follow. I was well satisfied to
keep them apart for a time. Yet no sister of the Ursulines could have
been more exemplary with her glances than this Indian was just then.
She sat like a figure of destiny and watched the woman. Whether she
admired or not I should not know till I saw whether she intended to
imitate.
Cadillac's letter lay heavy in my pocket that day and disinclined me to
speech. Should I show it to the woman and ask her what she would like
to do? And having asked her, should I let her preference warp my final
decision? I was not sure. The manner of my life had confirmed me in
my natural inclination to decide things for myself and take no counsel.
And now all my desires called out to me to destroy this letter and say
nothing. Why should I wish to meet Lord Starling? And by keeping out
of the way I should be playing into Cadillac's hands and therefore
furthering my own ends.
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