ice and snow of the long winter. Low stumps and
roots were beginning to appear, although the shade of close-set
cypress and fir prolonged the death-struggle of the perishing
snowdrifts; the roads became quagmires; wherever the brown mosses
were uncovered they were full of water as a sponge. In other lands
it was already spring; vigorously the sap was running, buds were
bursting and presently leaves would unfold; but the soil of far
northern Canada must be rid of one chill and heavy mantle before
clothing itself afresh in green.

A dozen times in the course of the day Maria and her mother opened
the window to feel the softness of the air, listen to the tinkle of
water running from the last drifts on higher slopes, or hearken to
the mighty roar telling that the exulting Peribonka was free, and
hurrying to the lake a freight of ice-floes from the remote north.

Chapdelaine seated himself that evening on the door-step for his
smoke; a stirring of memory brought the remark--"Franc will soon
be passing. He said that perhaps he would come to see us." Maria
replied with a scarce audible "Yes," and blessed the shadow hiding
her face.

Ten days later he came, long after nightfall. The women were alone
in the house with Tit'Be and the children, the father having gone
for seed-grain to Honfleur whence he would only return on the
morrow. Telesphore and Alma Rose were asleep, Tit'Be was having a
last pipe before the family prayer, when Chien barked several times
and got up to sniff at the closed door. Then two light taps were
heard. The visitor waited for the invitation before he entered and
stood before them.

His excuses for so late a call were made without touch of
awkwardness. "We are camped at the end of the portage above the
rapids. The tent had to be pitched and things put in order to make
the Belgians comfortable for the night. When I set out I knew it was
hardly the hour for a call and that the paths through the woods must
be pretty bad. But I started all the same, and when I saw your light..."

His high Indian boots were caked with mud to the knee; he breathed a
little deeply between words, like a man who has been running; but
his keen eyes were quietly confident.

"Only Tit'Be has changed," said he. "When you left Mistassini he was
but so high..." With a hand he indicated the stature of a child.
Mother Chapdelaine's face was bright with interest; doubly pleased
to receive a visitor and at the chance of talking abou