ion. It is not how lazy a man is, but how lazy he
gets a chance to be."

"If you'd been through what I have this spring, you'd deserve a
rest."

"You must have had a stirring time," said the Lieutenant. "Major
Provost has promised to let me go out with the line when the campaign
starts. I've not had a brush since I came over."

Menard gave him a quizzical smile before he replied, "You'll get
brushes enough."

"By the way, the Major wants to see you."

"Does he?" said Menard.

He lighted his short pipe with a coal from the fire and walked out.

CHAPTER II.

THE MAID.

Menard did not go at once to see Major Provost, the Commandant. He had
already handed in his report at the citadel. It was probable that this
was some new work for him. He had just settled his mind to the
prospect of a rest, the first since that mad holiday, seven years
before, when word had come that his lieutenant's commission was on the
way. That was at Three Rivers. He wanted to idle, to waste a few weeks
for the sheer delight of extravagance, but his blood did not flow more
quickly at the wish. He was an older man by a score of years--or was
it only seven?

He lingered on the square. The black-eyed children, mostly dirty and
ragged (for the maids whom the King had sent over by shiploads to his
colonists had not developed into the most diligent and neat
housewives) tumbled about his feet. He allowed himself to be drawn
into their play. They had no awe of his uniform, for it was worn and
frayed. He had not yet taken the trouble to get out his fresher coat
and breeches and boots. He thought of this, and was again amused. It
was another sign of age. The time had been when his first care after
arriving in Quebec was to don his rich house uniform and polished
scabbard, and step gaily to the Major's house to sun himself in the
welcome of the Major's pretty wife, who had known his uncle, the Sieur
de Vauban, at La Rochelle. Now he was back in Quebec from months on
the frontier, he was summoned to the Major's house, and yet he stayed
and laughed at the children. For the Major's wife was older, too, and
the vivacity of her youth was thinning out and uncovering the
needle-like tongue beneath. A slim little urchin was squirming between
his boots, with a pursuing rabble close behind, and the Captain had to
take hold of a young tree to keep his feet. He turned and started in
pursuit of the children, but caught sight of two Ursuline sisters
ent