"We can't go back." It was said with conviction, and a mumble of voices indorsed him. "Still, all respect to you, Father! But Latisan won't fit any longer even if he does go back. He has let himself be goofered." Father Leroque had set up his temporary altar in many a lumber camp; he knew woodsmen; therefore, he knew that argument with those men would be idle. "You have heard," he said to Lida when the two walked away deeper into the shadows. "I'm sorry. But so the matter stands." "But if I go now and talk to them--confess to them----" "They are Latisan's own men, and the story is fresh, and their resentment is hot. You will not prevail, mam'selle. And if you fail to-night with those men you risk failing with all. You must go on to the drive--talk to the others who are still loyal. I fear much, I must warn you, but I will not try to keep you from what seems to be your duty. It would be too great unhappiness for you if you should go back now, feeling that you had not done your best." The bandsmen had eaten of the wedding feast and were again valorously making gay music outside the workshop building from whose windows poured light and laughter. "I can't go back in there--I can't!" sobbed Lida. "Right now I want to hide away." With gentle understanding the priest escorted her to the door of the sachem's cottage. "I will pray for you, that the morning may bring good courage again. I will talk with you then--in the morning." She stammered broken words of gratitude and escaped to the covert of the little room. Father Leroque went back to the wedding party and called the governor out into the night. For a long time the two conferred, walking to and fro under the big pines. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Sunrise was crystal clear, with frosty crispness, for April in the northern latitudes flirts long with Winter on his way to everlasting snows. Lida saw the sun come quivering over the big trees and sat by her window, continuing the doleful ponderings which had made the night black and dismal. There was no cheer for her in the morning radiance; as she faced what was ahead of her, new fear grew in her; faith in herself was waning after the defection of Latisan's men. Would Echford Flagg's own crew stand by a stricken master or hearken to the appeal of Flagg's kin? The rivermen guests had departed; there were no bateaus on the shore; faint smoke came wreathing from the black embers of the feast fire. Early as it was, there was the stir of life in the other rooms of the cottage, and she ventured forth timidly into the presence of the governor's family. The little mirror in her room had revealed to her the pallor of her face and the mournful anxiety in her eyes.