"Chante, rossignol, chante,
Toi qui as le coeur gai;
Tu as le coeur a rire,
Moi je l'ai-t a pleurer."

No answer came from the dark forest. He took up his chant again, more
boldly:

"Tu as le coeur a rire,
Moi je l'ai-t a pleurer;
J'ai perdu ma maitresse
Sans pouvoir la trouver.
--Lui y a longtemps que je t'aime,
Jamais je ne t'oublierai."

He listened. A low call sounded from the trees on his right, and he
brought the canoe under the bank.

"Is that you, Bateese?"

"Monsieur, forgive me! I said as little as I could, but the Reverend
Father and Dominique were too clever for me. And how was I to have
known? . . . . Take the canoe and travel fast, my friends; they will
be searching again at dawn."

"Did mademoiselle send the canoe?"

"Yes; and she charged you to answer one question. It was her
brother--M. Armand--whom the Iroquois slew in the Wilderness.
Ah, that cry! Can one ever forget?"

"Her brother!" John's hand went to his breast in the darkness.

"Monsieur did not know, then? I was sure that monsieur could not
have known! For myself I did not know until four days ago.
The Iroquois had not seen us, and we escaped back to the Richelieu--
to Sorel--to Montreal, where I left my wounded man. Ah, monsieur,
but we suffered on the way! And from Montreal I made for Boisveyrac,
and there my tongue ran loose--but in all innocence. And there I
heard that M. Armand had been crossing the Wilderness . . . but
monsieur did not know it was her brother?"

"That, at least, I never knew nor guessed, Bateese. Was this the
question Mademoiselle Diane desired you to ask me?"

"It was, monsieur. And, according to your answer, I was to give you
her word."

"What is her word, Bateese?"

"She commends you to God, monsieur, and will pray for you."

"Take back my word that I will pray to deserve her prayers, who can
never deserve her pardon."

CHAPTER XVII.

FRONTENAC SHORE.

"And what will my brother do?"

For minutes before John heard and answered it the question had been
singing in his ears to the beat of the paddles. He supposed that
Menehwehna had asked it but a moment ago.

"I cannot tell. Let us press on; it may be we shall find my
countrymen at Frontenac."

"As a child breaks down a lodge which another child has built, and
runs away, so your countrymen will have departed."

Fort Amitie lay far behind. They were threading their way now