Have you noticed?"

"She seems of a sober mind."

"Don't you see why? It is her father's losses, and this journey. She
is taking it very hard. She is afraid, Father, all the time; and she
neither sleeps nor eats."

"It is naturally hard for such a child as she is to take this journey.
She has had no experience,--she does not comprehend the easy customs
and the hard travelling of the frontier. I think that in time--"

Menard was puffing impatiently.

"Father," he said, "do you remember when Major Gordeau was killed, and
I was detailed to bring his wife and daughter down to Three Rivers? It
was much like this. They fretted and could not sleep, and the coarse
fare of the road was beneath their appetites. Do you remember? And
when it came to taking the rapids, with the same days of hard work
that lie before us now, they were too weak, and they sickened, the
mother first, then the daughter. When I think of that, Father, of the
last week of that journey, and of how I swore never again to take a
woman in my care on the river, I--well, there is no use in going over
it. If this goes on, we shall not get to Frontenac in time, that is
all. And I cannot afford to take such a chance."

The priest looked grave. The long struggle against the rapids from
Montreal to La Gallette had tried the hardihood of more than one
strong man.

"It is probable, my son, that the sense of your responsibility makes
you a little over-cautious. She is a strong enough child, I should
say. Still, perhaps the food is not what she has been accustomed to. I
have noticed that she eats little."

"Perrot is too fond of grease," Menard said. "I must tell him to use
less grease."

"If she should be taken sick, we could leave her with someone at
Montreal."

"Leave her at Montreal!" exclaimed Menard. "When she breaks down, it
will be in the rapids. And then I must either go on alone, or wait
with you until she is strong enough to be carried. In any case it
means confusion and delay. And I must not be delayed."

"What have you in mind to do?"

"We must find a way to brighten her spirits. It is homesickness that
worries her, and sorrow for her father, and dread of what is before
and around her. I'll warrant she has never been away from her home
before. We must get her confidence,--devise ways to cheer her,
brighten her."

"I can reason with her, and--"

"This is not the time for reasoning, Father. What we must do is to
make her stop thinking, stop