Croisset's little girl, who lived over on the Big Thunder.
The crazed father had led them a mad race, but they had kept up with
him. And just in time. There had not been an hour to lose. After that
Croisset and his half-breed wife would have laid down their lives for
Father Roland--and for him. For the forest people had begun to accept
him as a part of Father Roland; more and more he could see their growing
love for him, their gladness when he came, their sorrow when he left,
and it gave him what he thought of as a sort of _filling_ satisfaction,
something he had never quite fully experienced before in all his life.
He knew that he would come back to them again some day--that, in the
course of his life, he would spend a great deal of time among them. He
assured Father Roland of this.

The Missioner did not question him deeply about his "friends" in the
western mountains. But night after night he helped him to mark out a
trail on the maps that he had at the Chateau, giving him a great deal of
information which David wrote down in a book, and letters to certain
good friends of his whom he would find along the way. As the slush snow
came, and the time when David would be leaving drew nearer, Father
Roland could not entirely conceal his depression, and he spent more time
in the room beyond the locked door. Several times when about to enter
the room he seemed to hesitate, as if there were something which he
wanted to say to David. Twice David thought he was almost on the point
of inviting him into the room, and at last he came to believe that the
Missioner wanted him to know what was beyond that mysterious door, and
yet was afraid to tell him, or ask him in. It was well along in March
that the thing happened which he had been expecting. Only it came in a
manner that amazed him deeply. Father Roland came from the room early
in the evening, after playing his violin. He locked the door, and as he
put on his cap he said:

"I shall be gone for an hour, David. I am going over to Mukoki's cabin."

He did not ask David to accompany him, and as he turned to go the key
that he had held in his hand dropped to the floor. It fell with a quite
audible sound. The Missioner must have heard it, and would have
recovered it had it slipped from his fingers accidentally. But he paid
no attention to it. He went out quickly, without glancing back.

For several minutes David stared at the key without moving from his
chair near the table. It mean