"Come, Gabrielle; I will show you. It is only a step or two. I was coming away, but now I will gladly return. This way, if you please. It is a rough path, and steep. Take my hand, will you not? Now we are at the foot of the hill, and there, under the trees, is the cabin--my hermitage. It is not much like the Ursulines, I should say. You were there, were you not?" "Yes, certainly, I was there for a while; but I have escaped, as you see. I could not say so many prayers--it was too fatiguing--and I had to have a little vacation in the country. Soon I will return." "Return?" exclaimed Jean, in dismay. "That would be a pity. Do not return to the convent, Gabrielle." "Why not, then? It is a pleasant place, the convent, so quiet, so peaceful; and the sisters are so good, so dear. And it is a place where one can make one’s salvation." "Salvation, you say, in a convent, in a little cell? How can one find that between four walls? It is something that belongs to the open air, Gabrielle; something that comes with the sunshine. No, it is here that one finds true peace, rest for the soul--salvation, if you like." "But you are going away, Jean. Is it possible that you are leaving your salvation?" "But no. I have found it here; and I am taking it back to St. Placide, to the work that awaits me there. But now that you are here I forget all that, and I could stay for ever. Stay here, Gabrielle." "So I will, Jean, for a few moments, at least. It is a pretty place. But where is the lake? Where is Lac Desir?" "We are coming to it. Another turn of the path and you will get a glimpse of it through the trees. There, there it is!" Gabrielle clapped her hands. "Beautiful! Charming! Like a picture--more lovely than any picture! Certainly, the pictures at the convent are not like this. You have a canoe, of course. Get it, Jean--quickly. You shall take me out on the lake." "With pleasure, Gabrielle. The ship is here, in this clump of spruces. It would not be easy to find it if one did not know the place. I am revealing all our secrets, as you see. Presently I will give you the keys, and you shall be the sovereign lady of these dominions. Look! A fine canoe, is it not? Of a single piece of bark. It is not often that one sees a canoe like this--so light, so graceful, so strong, so perfect in all its lines. One carries it like a feather. There, I will place it in the water, by the rock. Have the goodness to take your place in the bow, Mademoiselle the Passenger. A great honour for the canoe, for me, I assure you, Mademoiselle."