"That, at least, I never knew nor guessed, Bateese. Was this the question Mademoiselle Diane desired you to ask me?" "It was, monsieur. And, according to your answer, I was to give you her word." "What is her word, Bateese?" "She commends you to God, monsieur, and will pray for you." "Take back my word that I will pray to deserve her prayers, who can never deserve her pardon." CHAPTER XVII. FRONTENAC SHORE. "And what will my brother do?" For minutes before John heard and answered it the question had been singing in his ears to the beat of the paddles. He supposed that Menehwehna had asked it but a moment ago. "I cannot tell. Let us press on; it may be we shall find my countrymen at Frontenac." "As a child breaks down a lodge which another child has built, and runs away, so your countrymen will have departed." Fort Amitie lay far behind. They were threading their way now among the Thousand Isles, and soon Lake Ontario opened before them, spreading its blue waters to the horizon. But John heeded neither green islands nor blue lake, nor their beauty, nor their peace, but only the shame in his heart. He saw only the dazzle on the water, heard only the swirl around his paddle, stroke by stroke, hour after hour; prayed only for fatigue to drug the ache and bring about oblivion with the night. Coasting the shore they came at the close of day upon the charred skeletons of three ships lifting their ribs out of the shallows against the sunset, and beyond these, where the water deepened, to a deserted quay. They landed; and while they climbed the slope towards the fort, out of one of its breaches its only inhabitant crawled to them--a young dog, gaunt and tame with hunger. The dog fawned upon Menehwehna. But John turned his back on the smoke-blackened walls in a sick despair, seated himself on the slope, and let his gaze travel southward over the shoreless water. Beyond the rim of it would lie Oswego, ruined by the French as the English had ruined Frontenac. The dog came and stretched itself at his feet, staring up with eyes that seemed at once to entreat his favour and to marvel why he sat there motionless. Menehwehna had stepped down to the canoe to fetch food for it, and by and by returned with a handful of biscuit. "He will be useful yet," said Menehwehna, seating himself beside the dog and feeding it carefully with very small pieces. "He cannot be more than a year old, and before the winter is ended we will make a hunter of him." John did not answer. "You will come with me now, brother?" Still Menehwehna kept his eyes on the dog. "There is no other way." "There is one way only," answered John, with his eyes fastened on the south. "Teach me to build a canoe, and let me cross the water alone. If I drown, I drown."