uld go down with a clear
name."

"There is still doubt," said the priest, cautiously. "We know only
what Tegakwita said."

"I'm afraid," Menard replied, shaking his head, "I'm afraid it's true.
You said he wore the hunting clothes. Some one freed him. And the girl
is gone. I wish--Well, there is no use. I hoped for something better,
that is all."

Just outside the door the maid was talking gaily with the two
children, who now and then raised their piping voices. Then it was
evident that they were going away, for she was calling after them. She
came into the hut, smiling, and carrying a small willow basket full of
corn.

"See," she said, "even now it is something to have made a friend. We
shall not go hungry to-day, after all. Will you partake, Father? And
M'sieu?"

She paused before the Captain. He had stepped forward, and was staring
at her.

"Where are they?" he asked.

"The children? They are wandering along the path."

"Quick, Mademoiselle! Call them back."

She hesitated, in surprise; then set the basket on the ground and
obeyed. Menard paced the floor until she returned.

"They are outside, M'sieu, too frightened to come near."

"Give me that birch cup, outside the door." He was speaking in quick,
low tones. "They must not see me. It would frighten them."

She brought him the cup, and he emptied the flowers on the floor,
tearing open the seams, and drying the wet white bark on his sleeve.
He snatched a charred coal from the heap of ashes in the centre of the
floor, and wrote rapidly in a strange mixture of words and signs, "A
piece of thread, Mademoiselle. And look again--see that they have not
gone."

"They are waiting, M'sieu."

He rolled the bark tightly, and tied it with the thread which she
brought from her bundle.

"We must have a present. Father Claude, you have your bale.
Find something quickly,--something that will please them. No,
wait--Mademoiselle, have you a mirror? They would run fifty
leagues for a mirror."

She nodded, rummaged through her bundle, and brought out a small
glass.

"Take this, Mademoiselle. Tell them to give this letter to the Big
Throat, at the next village. They will know the way. He must have it
before the day is over. No harm can come to them. If anyone would
punish them, the Big Throat will protect them. You must make them do
it. They cannot fail."

Her face flushed, and her eyes snapped as she caught his nervous
eagerness. Even Father Claude had risen