d Bateese
taught to Monsieur Armand. The Seigneur will be uneasy about his son
when he hears what 'Polyte and Damase report; and Monsieur Etienne
and Mademoiselle Diane will be uneasy also."

"But this Ojibway saw nothing of M. Armand or his party."

"No news is good news. As you owe the Seigneur your duty, take your
guests up to Fort Amitie to-morrow and let them be interrogated."

"My Father, must I go?" There was anguish in Dominique's voice.
"Surely Jo Lagasse or Pierre Courteau will do as well?--and there is
much work at Boisveyrac which cannot be neglected."

They had come to shore, and the priest had stepped out upon the bank
after Dominique for a few parting words.

"But that is not your true reason?" He laid his hand on the young
man's shoulder and looked him in the eyes.

Dominique's fell. "Father," he entreated in a choking voice,
"you know my secret: do not be hard on me! 'Lead us not into
temptation'--"

"It will not serve you to run from yours. You must do battle with
it. Bethink you that, as through the Wilderness, there are more ways
than one in love, and the best is that of self-denial. Mademoiselle
Diane is not for you, Dominique, her father's _censitaire_: yet you
may love her your life through, and do her lifelong service.
To-morrow, by taking these men to Fort Amitie, you may ease her heart
of its fears: and will you fail in so simple a devoir? There is too
much of self in your passion, Dominique--for I will not call it love.
Love finds itself in giving: but passion is always a beggar."

"My Father, you do not understand--"

"Who told you that I do not understand?" the priest interrupted
harshly. "I too have known passion, and learnt that it is full of
self and comes of Satan. Nay, is that not evident to you, seeing
what mischief it has already worked in your life? Think of Bateese."

"Do I ever cease thinking of Bateese? Do I ever cease fighting with
myself?" Dominique's voice rose almost to a cry of pain. He stared
across the water with gloomy eyes and added--it seemed quite
inconsequently--"The Cascades is a bad fall, but I think it will be
the Roches Fendues that gets me in the end."

He said it calmly, wistfully: and, pausing for a moment, met the
priest's eyes.

"Your blessing, Father. I will go."

He knelt.

Generations of _voyageurs_, upward bound, and porting their canoes to
avoid the falls, had worn a track beside the river bank. Dominique
made such spe