He sharpened a quill with his sheath-knife, and began to copy the report, making further corrections here and there. Something more than an hour had passed before the work was finished. He rolled up the document and tied it with a thong of deerskin. It was still early in the evening, but the fort was as silent as at midnight. Menard opened the door and walked out a little way. The lamps were all burning, but no soldiers were to be seen. The barrack windows were dark. He stepped back into the house, closed the door, and said in a low voice:-- "Teganouan." There was a stir in the loft. In a moment the Indian came down the ladder and stood waiting. "Teganouan, you heard what the Lieutenant said?" "Teganouan has ears." "Very well. I am going to blow out the candle." The room was dark. The door creaked softly, and a breath of air blew in upon the Captain as he stood by the table. He felt over the table for his tinder-box and struck a light. The door was slowly closing; Teganouan had gone. * * * * * Another sun was setting. A single drum was beating loudly as the little garrison drew up outside the sally-port and presented arms. The allies and the mission Indians were crowding down upon the beach, silent, inquisitive,--puffing at their short pipes. For half a league, from the flat, white beach out over the rose-tinted water stretched an irregular black line of canoes and bateaux, all bristling with muskets. The Governor had come. He could be seen kneeling, all sunburned and ragged but with erect head, in the first canoe. His canoemen checked their swing, for the beach was close at hand, and then backed water. The bow scraped, and a dozen hands were outstretched in aid, but Governor Denonville stepped briskly out into the ankle-deep water and carried his own pack ashore. A cheer went up from the little line at the sally-port. Du Luth's _voyageurs_ and _coureur de bois_ caught it up, and then it swept far out over the water and was echoed back from the forest. In the doorway of a hut near the Recollet Chapel stood Menard and Valerie. They watched canoe after canoe glide up and empty its load of soldiers, not speaking as they watched, but thinking each the same thought. At last, when the straggling line was pouring into the fort, and the bugles were screaming, and the drum rolling, Valerie slipped her hand through the Captain's arm and looked up into his face. "It was you who brought them here," she said; and then, after a pause, she laughed a breathless little laugh. "It was you," she repeated.