But Susep Nicola asked no questions. He seemed to accept her presence as
a quite natural thing. A Tarratine never puts a question to a guest; the
guest may explain or state his business in his own good time. The
sachem set a chair for her and relieved her of the staff and her bag. He
put his finger on the emblem and smiled. There was inquiry in his eyes
whether she knew and understood. She bowed her head.

As best she could she parried the questions of the inquisitive priest
without making it appear that she was trying to hide anything. "It's an
errand, and Mr. Flagg was kind enough to loan the staff as my token in
these parts. You know he is ill and cannot go about any more. He must
leave certain things to others."

"Well," admitted the priest, plainly struggling with a hankering to ask
her bluntly what service a girl could perform for Flagg on the drive,
"the ladies in these days are into all the affairs of men as well as on
the juries, so we must consider it as quite natural that you have been
sent up here by Mr. Flagg. At any rate, we should be grateful that you
are here," he declared, gallantly.

"It's on account of the accident to my team that I'm forced to intrude
at a time like this," she apologized to Nicola. He was an old man, gaunt
and bowed, and his festal trappings seemed rather incongruous
decorations.

"But you bring my brother's staff, and it makes you welcome for yourself
and stands for him because he cannot come."

He called, and a woman appeared. He gave directions, and the woman
offered to conduct Lida to a room in the cottage.

"You are honored guest," said the governor. "In an hour the wedding
takes place in the church, and then the wedding supper!"

"To which I beg permission to escort you," said the priest, bowing low
as Lida went from the room.

She laid off her woods panoply of cap and jacket and made herself fit
for the festival to such an extent as her scanty wardrobe would permit.

Before the wedding procession started for the church she was presented
to the bride, Nicola's youngest daughter. The woman who had shown Lida
to her room had gossiped a bit. The bride was the fruit of the
governor's second marriage and had inherited her French Canadian
mother's beauty. And the groom was a French Canadian, a strapping chap,
a riverman of repute.

Lida was told that the men of the river, the jacks of the driving crews
far and near, were making much of the wedding on account of their l