, they speak of
"town" as if it were five miles off.

And Trudeau's on the river bank, quite imposing with its three stories
and its gingerbread gallery, is the nucleus of it all. Trudeau's is a
reminder of the jolly bustling inns of a century ago. The traders, the
policemen, the mail-carriers, the rivermen and the freighters come and
go; each sits for a day or two in the row of chairs tipped back against
the wall--for no one is ever in a hurry in the North--gives his news,
if he be on the way "out"; takes it if he be coming "in"; and appoints
to meet his friends there next year. The commonest type of all is the
genial dilettante, the man who traps a little, prospects a little, grows
a few potatoes, and loafs a great deal. Trudeau's is also the eddy which
sooner or later sucks in the derelicts of the country, sons or brothers
of somebody, incredibly unshaven and down at heel; capitalists of
bluster and labourers with the tongue.

Such was the crowd that witnessed Natalie's arrival open-mouthed; and
such the individuals that fastened themselves in turn on Garth, with
the determination of extracting a full explanation of the phenomenon.
Garth succeeded in avoiding at the same time giving offense and giving
information. But he could not prevent a fine podful of rumours from
bursting at the Landing, and scattering seeds broadcast over the North.

He found a letter awaiting him from the Bishop.

"I find," he wrote, "that Captain Jack Dexter's steamboat
will be going up the river to the Warehouse in the middle
of the week; and as my preparations are completed a day
or two earlier than I expected, I am starting on ahead
with my outfit. You will probably overtake us in the big
river, as we have to track all the way; but should you be
delayed, I will go on up the rapids; and will see that a
wagon is waiting for you at the Warehouse, to bring you
to me at Pierre Toma's house on Musquasepi. This will be
more comfortable for you, as all this first part of the
journey is tedious up-stream work."

The good man little suspected when he wrote it what a quandary his kindly
note would throw Garth into.

After supper, he and Natalie, sitting in the rigid little parlour
upstairs, talked it over; while Mademoiselle Trudeau, aged fifteen, sought
to entertain them by rendering effete popular songs on the famous piano.
From below came the rise and fall of deep-voiced talk, and the incessant
c