, they took to watching and speculating
on the course of the conversation. The night came on, and the dark
closed over them. Still the murmur of those low voices floated across
the camp.

Father Claude, with a troubled mind, went down to the water, and
walked slowly up and down. Menard saw to the final preparations for
the night, and posted the first sentry. Then he joined the priest.

"Father?"

"Yes."

"I think it is time to speak."

"I fear it is, M'sieu."

"I must leave it in your hands."

"Shall I go now?"

"Yes."

Without further words, Father Claude walked up the bank, crackling
through the bushes. From this spot the voices were inaudible, and for
a few moments there was no sound. Then Menard could hear some one
moving heavily through the undergrowth, going farther and farther into
the stillness, and he knew that it was Danton. He sat on the bank with
his back against a tree, and waited for a long hour. At last he
dropped asleep.

He was awakened by Father Claude. The priest dropped to the ground
beside him. His training had given Menard the faculty of awaking
instantly into full grasp of a situation.

"Well," he said. "Where is the maid?"

"She has gone to her couch, but not to sleep, I fear. It has come,
M'sieu."

"What has come?"

"Danton has lost his senses. He asks her to marry him, to flee with
him. It is a difficult case. She has had no such experience before,
and knows not how to receive him. She seems to have no love for him,
beyond the pleasure his flattery has given her. She believes all he
says. One thing I know, aside from all questions of expediency, of
care for our trust, this must not go on."

"Not for the present, at least. She may do what she will, once we have
taken her safely to Frontenac."

"No, M'sieu; not even then. We must stop it at once."

"Oh, of course," said Menard; "so far as we are concerned, we have no
choice. You need not bother longer to-night. I will wait for the boy.
I am sorry for him."

"I should have more pity, if I knew less of his past."

"Tush, Father! He is not a bad fellow, as they go. To be sure he does
not rise any too well to new responsibilities, but he will grow into
it. It is better an honest infatuation with the daughter of a
gentleman than a dishonest one with an Indian maid. And you know our
officers, Father. God knows, they are all bad enough; and yet they are
loyal fellows."

"Ah, M'sieu, I fear you will be too lenient with him.