red I must write as it happened to me then, and not as its
full significance became later clear to my understanding. It was after
nightfall when Cassion returned to the mission house. The lights were
burning on the table, and the three priests were rather impatiently
waiting their evening meal, occasionally exchanging brief sentences,
or peering out through the open window toward the dark water.

As long as daylight lasted this had been my post of observation, while
watching the distant figures busily engaged in reloading the canoes
for the morrow's journey. They were like so many ants, running across
the brown sands, both soldiers and Indians stripped to the waist,
apparently eager enough to complete their task. Occasionally the echo
of a song reached my ears, and the distance was not so great but that
I could distinguish individuals. Cassion sat upon a log directing
operations, not even rising to lend a hand, but Chevet gave his great
strength freely.

De Artigny was back among the huts, in charge of that end of the line,
no doubt, and it was only occasionally I gained glimpse of his
presence. An Indian canoe came ashore just before sundown, and our men
knocked off work to cluster about and examine its cargo of furs.
Angered by the delay Cassion strode in among them, and, with bitter
words and a blow or two, drove them back to their task. The loss of
time was not great, yet they were still busily engaged when darkness
shut out the scene.

Cassion came in alone, yet I observed nothing strange about his
appearance, except that he failed to greet me with the usual attempt
at gallantry, although his sharp eyes swept our faces, as he closed
the door, and stared about the room.

"What! not eaten yet?" he exclaimed. "I anticipated my fate to be a
lonely meal, for the rascals worked like snails, and I would not leave
them rest until all was finished. Faith, the odor is appetizing, and I
am hungry as a bear."

The younger priest waved his hand to the _engage_, yet asked softly:

"Monsieur Chevet--he is delayed also?"

"He will sup with his men tonight," returned Cassion shortly, seating
himself on the bench. "The sergeant keeps guard of the canoes, and
Chevet will be useful with those off duty."

The man ate as though nearly famished, his ready tongue unusually
silent, and at the conclusion of the meal, appeared so fatigued, that
I made early excuse to withdraw so he might rest in comfort, climbing
the ladder in one