I said at last.

“Mayaro listens.”

“How is it then with Lois de Contrecoeur that you already knew she was of the Hidden Children?”

“I knew it when I first laid eyes on her, Loskiel.”

“By what sign?”

“The moccasins. She lay under a cow-shed asleep in her red cloak, her head on her arms. Beside her the kerchief tied around her bundle lay unknotted, revealing the moccasins that lay within. I saw, and knew. And for that reason have I been her friend.”

“You told her this?”

“Why should I tell her?”

There