and petting that he
descried unusual neglect in the appearance of house and garden. Three
ugly blotched and snorting pigs ran out from under some bushes and
followed him. He saw no smoke arising, no face at any window, heard no
lively bustle in the farm-yard, no amusing and contentious chatter in
Canadian French from the barns and out-buildings which sheltered the
various members of the Archambault family. A curious feeling rushed
over him and with it a conviction--the place was deserted. He went at
once to the chain of farm buildings and examined them all; all were
empty, with every sign of hurried and agitated flight rather than of
orderly and complacent departure. The horses were gone, the two wagons
and buggy, the buckboard. Traces of fright and apprehension were met
at every step; a dirty hairbrush dropped on the ground; a clock
abandoned on a bench outside the door as if too heavy; tins opened and
rifled of their contents; a tub half full of soiled clothes in foul
water. All these he saw, scarcely taking in their meaning, until
returning to the manor he opened the front door and went in. There in
the usual place he found Henry Clairville, alive, and no more. Still
clad in the greasy dressing-gown and still seated in the tattered
arm-chair, the unfortunate man was clearly very ill. Patches appeared
on his face, which was both pallid and flushed; his neck showed red and
sore and his body hung down limply over the side of the chair.
Evidently he had tried to get to his bed which stood in a corner, and
failed. His eyes were staring and full, yet glassy; sense and
recognition alike were wanting, while the delirious accents which
escaped now and then from his parched lips were altogether in French.
In short, Ringfield, though unaccustomed to disease, knew that the man
before him was very ill, of what did not enter his head, although there
came to his mind a description of the plague in a boy's story-book. He
did what he could, singlehanded, which was to snatch some warm clothing
from the bed, cover up the sufferer so that draughts might not reach
him, fetch water and leave it on the table near the chair and see that
all animals were excluded. He then quickly sought for a secluded spot
near the lake, hung his own clothes about on branches to air, and took
a plunge into the clean, cool water, after which he was ready to return
to St. Ignace and get assistance.

Dr. Renaud, the village practitioner, drove out