y me to M. d'Epernay some ten or twelve days ago at the
_chateau_.

"I was uneasy, for it did not look to be like a love-match, and I knew
that M. d'Epernay had the reputation of a profligate in Quebec, where
he was hand in glove with Philippe Lacroix, one of M. Leroux's aids.
But a priest has no option when an expression of matrimonial consent is
made to him in the presence of two witnesses. So I married them.

"My duties took me to Quebec. There I learned that Mme. d'Epernay had
fled on the night of her marriage, and that her husband was in pursuit
of her. Again it was told me that she was living at the Chateau
Frontenac with another man. It was not for me to question whether she
loved her husband, but to do my duty.

"I appealed to you. You refused to listen to my appeal. You
threatened me, _monsieur_. And you denied my priesthood. However, I
do not speak of that, for she is undoubtedly safe with her father now,
awaiting her husband's return. And I shall not help you in your
pursuit of her, M. Hewlett, for you are actuated solely by love for the
wife of another man. Is that not so?" he ended, bending over me with a
penetrating look in his blue eyes.

"Yes, it is so. But I shall go to the chateau," I answered.

Pere Antoine rose up.

"You will find food here," he said, "and if you wish to take exercise
there are snow-shoes. Try to find the _chateau_--do what you please;
but remember that if you lose your way I shall not be here to save you.
I shall return from my mission in a week and be ready to conduct you to
St. Boniface. And now, _monsieur_, since we understand each other, I
shall prepare the supper."

I swallowed a few mouthfuls of food and fell asleep soon afterward. In
the morning when I awoke the cabin was empty.

My eyes were almost well, but my hands had been badly frozen and were
extremely painful, while I was so weak that I could hardly walk. I
spent the next two days recovering my strength, and on the third I
found myself able to leave the hut for a short tramp.

I found snow-shoes and coloured glasses in the cabin; my overcoat was
there, and I did not feel troubled in conscience when I appropriated a
pair of warm fur mittens which the good priest had made from mink
skins. They had no fingers, and were admirably adapted to the weather.

I found one of the pistols in the hut, and in the pocket of my fur coat
were a couple of cartridges which I had overlooked. The rest I had
fir