in their throats. They have
such dignity. It is hard not to believe them when they look straight
at one."

"Don't you believe them?"

"The three this morning,--they did not tell the truth."

"Didn't they?"

"Why, I understood that you did not believe them."

"And where did Mademoiselle learn that? Did she follow the conversation?"

"No; but Lieutenant Danton--"

"He told you?"

She nodded. Menard frowned.

"He shouldn't have done that."

The maid looked surprised at his remark, and the smile left her face.
"Of course, M'sieu," she said, a little stiffly, "whatever is not
meant for my ears--"

Menard was still frowning, and he failed to notice her change in
manner. He abruptly gave the conversation a new turn, but seeing after
a short time that the maid had lost interest in his sallies, he rose,
and called to the priest.

"Father, you are to have a new pupil. Mademoiselle also will study the
language of the Iroquois. If you are quick enough with your pupils, we
shall soon be able to hold a conversation each night about the fire.
Perhaps, if you would forego your exclusive air, Mademoiselle would
begin at once."

Danton, without waiting for the priest to start, came hurriedly over
and sat by the maid.

"You must pardon me," he said, "I did not think,--I did not know that
you would be interested. It is so dry."

The maid smiled at the fire.

"You did not ask," she replied, "and I could not offer myself to the
class."

"It will be splendid," said Danton. "We shall learn the language of
the trees and the grass and the rivers and the birds. And the message
of the wampum belt, too, we shall know. You see,"--looking up at
Menard,--"already I am catching the meanings."

Menard smiled, and then went down the bank, leaving the three to bend
their heads together over the mysteries of the Iroquois rules of
gender, written out by Father Claude on a strip of bark. It was nearly
an hour later, after the maid had crept to her couch beneath the
canoe, and Perrot and Guerin had sprawled upon the bales and were
snoring in rival keys, that Danton came lightly down the slope humming
a drinking song. He saw Menard, and dropped to the ground beside him,
with a low laugh.

"Mademoiselle will lead my wits a chase, Menard. Already she is deep
in the spirit of the new work."

"Be careful, my boy, that she leads no more than your wits a chase."

Danton laughed again.

"I don't believe there is great danger. What a vo