words his father had always
used at this season. But the harvesters--old Damase Juneau and his
wife La Marmite, Jo Lagasse, the brothers Pierre and Telesphore
Courteau, with Telesphore's half-breed wife Leelinau (Lelie, in
French)--all knew the difference in tone. It had been worth while in
former times to hear old Bonhomme Guyon say the words, putting his
heart into them, while the Seigneur himself would follow behind,
echoing, "Yes, that is so. Work, my children: work is the great
cure!" But Bonhomme Guyon was dead these two months--rest his soul;
and the Seigneur gone up the river to command a fortress for the King
of France; and no one left at Boisveyrac but themselves and half a
dozen militiamen and this young Dominique Guyon, who would not smile
and was a skinflint.

It was as if the caterpillars had eaten the mirth as well as the
profits out of this harvest which (if folks said true) the Seigneur
needed so badly. Even the children had ceased to find it amusing,
and had trooped after the priest, Father Launoy, up the hill and into
the courtyard of the Chateau.

"Work, my friends!" said Dominique. He knew well that they detested
him and would have vastly preferred his brother Bateese for overseer.
For his part, he took life seriously: but no one was better aware of
the bar between him and others' love or liking.

They respected him because he was the best _canotier_ on the river; a
better even than his malformed brother Bateese, now with the army.
When he drew near they put more spirit into their pitchforking.

"But all the same it breaks the back, this suspense," declared La
Marmite. "I never could work with more than one thing in my mind.
Tell us, Dominique Guyon: the good Father will be coming out soon,
will he not?--that is, if he means to shoot the falls before sunset."

"What can it matter to you, mother?"

"Matter? Why if he doesn't come soon, I shall burst myself with
curiosity, that is all!"

"But you know all that can be told. There has been a great victory,
for certain."

"Eh? Eh? You are clever enough, doubtless; but you don't think you
can question and cross-question a man the way that Father Launoy does
it? Why the last time I confessed to him he turned me upside down
and emptied me like a sack."

"There has been a great victory: that is all we need to know.
Work, my friends, work with a good heart!"

But when his back was turned they drew together and talked, glancing
now t