meet Jeanne, then dropping back with a
sigh.

The soldiers were very kind to her and often stopped to give her good
day. Neighbors, too, paused, some in sympathy, some in curiosity.

There were many explanations of the sudden disappearance. That Jeanne
Angelot had been carried off by Indians seemed most likely. Such things
were still done.

But many of the superstitious shook their heads. She had come queerly as
if she had dropped from the clouds, she had gone in the same manner.
Perhaps she was not a human child. All wild things had come at her
call,--she had talked to them in the woods. Once a doe had run to her
from some hunters and she had so covered it with her girlish arms and
figure that they had not dared to shoot. If there were bears or panthers
or wolves in the woods, they never molested her.

They recalled old legends, Indian and French, some gruesome enough, but
they did not seem meet for pretty, laughing Jeanne, who was all
kindliness and sweetness and truth. If she was part spirit, surely it
was a good spirit and not an evil one.

Then Pani thought she would go to Father Gilbert, though she had never
felt at home with him as she did with good Pere Rameau. There might be
prayers that would hasten her return. Or, if relics helped, if she could
once hold them in her hand and wish--

The old missionaries who had gone a century or two before to plant the
cross along with the lilies of France had the souls of the heathen
savages at heart. Since then times had changed and the Indians were not
looked upon as such promising subjects. Father Gilbert worked for the
good and the glory of the Church. One English convert was worth a dozen
Indians. So the church had been improved and made more beautiful. There
were singers who caught the ear of the casual listener, and he or she
came again. The school, too, was improved, the sisters' house enlarged,
and a retreat built where women could spend days of sorrow and go away
refreshed. Sometimes they preferred to stay altogether.

Father Gilbert listened rather impatiently to the prolix story. He might
have heard it before, he did not remember. There were several Indian
waifs in school.

"And this child was baptized, you say? Why did you not bring her to
church?" he asked sharply.

"Good Pere, I did at first. But M. Bellestre would not have her forced.
And then she only came sometimes. She liked the new school because they
taught about countries and many things. Sh