The dusk fell; still I sat there, not thinking much of anything. I had my hand-bag with me and my warm coat. I opened my bag and took out an apple; I had eaten nothing since breakfast and felt faint. The apple was an Astrachan. I found myself calculating what it cost--this one apple. I must begin to count the cost again of every morsel, although I had all my wages with me. But ten weeks of sickness--and where would they be! I put my teeth into the apple-- A thought: the apple-boat--it was to leave soon--the week was up! I rose from the bench, not stopping to take a second bite; took my hand-bag; threw my coat over my shoulder, and started down the road to Richelieu-en-Bas. It was rapidly growing dark. One mile, two miles, three miles--the night was there to cover me. I was thankful. Five miles, six miles--I was entering the long street of the village. The lindens and elms made the road black. I strained my eyes to see the lights. That from the cabaret was the first--then a green one above the water, several feet it looked to be. It must be the apple-boat! It was just the time in the evening when the men flock to the cabaret. As I drew near it, I heard the sound of the graphophone. I listened, not stopping in my walk. "_O Canada, pays de mon amour!_" I stopped then; and it seemed as if my heart stopped at the same time. Oh, it had been "_Canada, land of my love_" in the deepest sense--and now! I went on to the boat; crossed the trestle. At the sound of my footstep on the deck, the woman put her head up the companionway. "Who 's there?" "Some one who wishes to speak with you alone; I was here the other day." "I know your voice, but I don't know your name. You can talk; my husband is, at present, yonder in the cabaret; he will be in by half-past ten. We sail to-night if the wind holds good." "To-night?" "Yes; and what is that to you?" she asked suspiciously. "May I come into the cabin?" "But, yes. Come." I sat down on the stool she placed for me. I was tired with the long walk. "I have been called away from here, where I have been at service--" "You--at service?" she asked in surprise. "Yes; and I am going away to find another place. Will you take me with you in the boat? May I go with you to your home, wherever it is?" She looked at me suspiciously. "I don't know--my husband--" "I will pay you well, whatever you ask--" "It is n't that,"--she hesitated,--"but I don't know who you are." "I am myself," I said wearily; "I am tired of my place, and they don't want me to leave. I want to go--I am too tired to stay--" "Too hard, was it?" "Everything was too hard. I come from Spencerville, just over the line; you know it?" "Oh, yes. My cousin settled there when the new tannery was built last year."