"Ewart is having his surprise too, but domestically. He had word in the mail from Cale last night, and according to his account everything is going to the dogs at Lamoral. Angélique has elected to fall in love with Widower Pierre and he with her. They are to postpone the marriage until the seignior returns, but beg he will consider the state of their affections and be considerate." I laughed with him. There was humor in this situation at Lamoral, for I had warned Cale before I left how this affair would terminate, and he had sniffed at my clairvoyance. "The truth is, Cale is homesick for the whole household." "Poor Cale! He is having a hard time. I ought to be at home to help him, to comfort him. Our new relationship means that I have found another friend." "And a faithful one." "You think we shall break camp very soon?" "Yes. I have to be off to-morrow--" "To-morrow! Why, you were to stay into the second week of September." "I have to leave sooner than I planned. The Montagnais brought up a telegram with the mail, and my answer goes back with me to-morrow. I 've kept the Montagnais for guide, although I should not fear to risk it alone, now that I have been over the route so many times." "Then, if Mrs. Macleod and Jamie are to sail soon, I must go, too, I suppose." "Yes, Cale needs you; the whole household needs you. I proposed to Ewart that we all go together, then there will be no heart-breaking goodbys, except to André." I bit my lip to keep back any inquiry about Mr. Ewart's going with us, and was thankful I held my peace for the Doctor continued, tramping steadily on ahead of me: "But now Ewart will remain to the end--" "But has it come to this?" I cried. I was depressed at the turn of events. The Doctor stopped, turned and faced me, saying gravely: "It has, Marcia; I read the signs. We shall know when we get back. I was with him all last night; there is no help. But Ewart and I did not want you and Jamie and Mrs. Macleod to know it--not till morning. You thought he was out fishing when we left; so did Jamie. Ewart asked me to tell you on our way back." "André--" I could not speak another word. The old Canadian had so endeared himself to me during the many weeks in the wilds. Added to this was the thought of his probable connection with my mother's short-lived joy. It was all too sudden. "It _is_ the débâcle, no mistake about that," I said stolidly, and set my teeth together that they should not chatter and betray my weakness of spirit. "Can't I stay and help to nurse him?"