he Lord is with us, lad. She shall be delivered! The Lord is with us;
but don't you bungle His plans!" ejaculated Father Holland for the
twentieth time; and each time the French trapper looked waggishly over
his shoulder at me and winked.

"Bungle! Pah!" Louis clapped his paddle athwart the canoe and laughed a
low, sly, defiant laugh. "Bungle! Pah! Catch Louis bungle his cards, ha,
ha! Trumps! He play trumps--he hold his hand low--careless--nodings in
it--he keep quiet--nodings worth play in his hand--but his sleeve--ha,
ha!" and Louis laughed softly and winked at the full moon.

"The daughter of L'Aigle, she cuff Louis, she slap his cheek, she call
him lump--lout--slouch! Ha, ha!--Louis no fool--he pare the claws of
L'Aigle to-night!"

At that, Little Fellow's stolid face took on a vindictive gleam, and he
snapped out something in Indian tongue which set Louis to laughing.
Suddenly the Indian's paddle was suspended in mid-air, and Little Fellow
bent over the prow, gazing at the moon-tracked water.

"_Sacredie!_" cried Louis, catching up water that trickled through his
fingers, "'tis dried rabbit thong! They are ahead of us! They have
passed while that Scotch mule was balk! We must catch the Englishman,"
and he began hitting out with his paddle at a great rate.

We had overtaken Mr. Sutherland's canoe within half an hour of Louis'
discovery, and Eric wheeled about with a querulous demand.

"What's wrong? Are they ahead? I thought you said they were behind," and
he turned suspiciously to Laplante.

"You thought wrong," said Louis, ever facile with subterfuges. "You
thought wrong, Mister High-and-Mighty! Camp here and watch; they come
before morning!"

"No lies to me," shouted Eric, becoming uncontrollably excited. "If you
mislead us, your life shall----"

"Pig-head! I no save your wife for back chin! Camp here, I say," and
Louis' fitful temper began to show signs of sulking.

"For goodness' sake, Eric, do what you're told! We've made a bad enough
business of it----"

"Give the Frenchman a chance! Do what you're told, I say, ye blunderers!
Troth, the Lord Himself couldn't bring success to such blundering
idiots," was Father Holland's comment.

"I'll take na orders frae meddlesome papists," began the Scotchman; but
Little Fellow had forcibly turned the prow of the canoe shoreward. I
gave them a shove with my paddle. Frances took the cue, and while her
father was yet scolding raised her paddle and had them clo