e sternness
in Menard's face, and his voice faltered.

"You did not leave it at Montreal?"

Father Claude slowly lowered the canvas to the ground. The light had
gone out of his eyes, and his face was white. Then suddenly his thin
form straightened. "I had forgotten. It was M'sieu's order. See,"--he
suddenly lifted the picture over his head and whirled to the
stump,--"it shall go no farther. We will leave it here for the wolves
and the crows and the pagan redmen."

He dashed it down with all his strength, but Menard sprang forward,
and caught it on his outstretched arm. "No, Father," he said; "we will
take it with us."

The priest smiled wearily, and lowered the picture to the ground; but
when Menard said, "You have broken it," he raised it hastily, and
examined it. One corner of the wooden frame was loosened, but the
canvas was not injured.

"I can mend it," he said.

Then they walked to the camp together, without talking; and Menard
helped him repair the frame, and pack the picture carefully.

"How is it that it was not ruined in the capsize at Coteau des
Cedres?" Menard asked.

"It was preserved by a miracle, M'sieu. This bundle did not leave the
canoe."

The _voyageurs_, still lounging in the clearing, were laughing and
talking noisily. The Captain, after he had prepared the maid's couch,
and bade her good-night, called to them to be quiet. For a time the
noise ceased, but a little later, as he was spreading his blanket on
the ground, it began again, and one of the transport men sang the
opening strain of a ribald song. Menard strode over to the group so
quickly that he took them by surprise. Colin was slipping something
behind him, but he could not escape Menard's eye. In a moment he was
sprawling on his face, and a brandy flask was brought to light. Menard
dashed it against a tree, and turned to the frightened men.

"Go to your blankets, every man of you. There are Iroquois on this
river. You have already made enough noise to draw them from half a
league away. The next man that is caught drinking will be flogged." He
thought of the maid lying under her frail shelter, for whose life he
was responsible. "If it occurs twice, he will be shot. Perrot, I want
you to join the sentry. From now on we shall have two men on guard all
night. See that there is no mistake about this. At the slightest
noise, you will call me."

The men slunk to their blankets, and soon the camp was still.

The river sang as it ru