y uncle is right; we have been remiss--"

Her voice trailed off, as her eyes fell on Father Launoy. He was
staring, not at her, but at the Indian; curiously at first, then with
dawning suspicion.

Involuntarily she glanced again towards Dominique. He, too, slowly
moved his gaze from her face and fastened it on the Indian.

He knew. . . . Father Launoy knew. . . . Oh, when would the boats
push off?

They pushed off and fell into their stations at length, amid almost
interminable shouting of orders and cross-shouting, pulling and
backing of oars. She had stolen one look at Bateese. . . . He did
not suspect . . . but, in the other boat, they knew.

Her uncle's voice ran on like a brook. She could not look up, for
fear of meeting her lover's eyes--yes, her lover's! She was reckless
now. They knew. She would deceive herself no longer. She was
base--base. He stood close, and in his presence she was glad--
fiercely, deliciously, desperately. She, betrayed in all her vows,
was glad. The current ran smoothly. If only, beyond the next ledge,
might lie annihilation!

The current ran with an oily smoothness. They were nearing the
Roches Fendues. Dominique's boat led.

A clear voice began to sing, high and loud, in a ringing tenor:

"Malbrouck s'en va-t'en guerre:
Mironton, mironton, mirontaine . . ."

At the first note John a Cleeve, glancing swiftly at Bateese, saw his
body stiffen suddenly with his hand on the tiller; saw his eyes
travel forward, seeking his brother's; saw his face whiten.
Dominique stood erect, gazing back, challenging. Beyond him John
caught a glimpse of Father Launoy looking up from his breviary; and
the priest's face, too, was white and fixed.

Voices in the boats behind began to curse loudly; for "Malbrouck" was
no popular air with the English. But Bateese took up the chant:

"Malbrouck s'en va-t'en guerre--
Ne sais quand reviendra!"

They were swinging past Bout de l'lsle. Already the keel under foot
was gathering way. From Bateese, who stood with eyes stiffened now
and inscrutable, John looked down upon Diane. She lifted her face
with a wan smile, but she, too, was listening to the challenge flung
back from the leading boat.

"Il reviendra-z a Paques . . ."

He flung one glance over his shoulder, and saw the channel dividing
ahead. Dominique was leaning over, pressing down the helm to
starboard. Over Dominique's arm Father Launoy stared rigidly.