"No, Father. They have but last week become Christians. The Long Arrow" (inclining his head toward the large Indian) "has lost a son, and through his suffering was led to take the faith." The Long Arrow, who had seemed to lose interest in the conversation as soon as he had finished speaking, here rose. "My brothers and the good Father will give us their blessing? The end of the journey is yet three days away. I had hoped that we might be permitted to accept the protection of the son of Onontio,"--he looked at Menard,--"but I see that his canoe will not be ready for the journey before the sun is high." He looked gravely from Menard to the priest, then walked to the shore, followed by the others. They pushed off, and shortly disappeared around the point of land. Menard gave them no attention, but as soon as they were gone from sight, he turned to the priest. "Well, Father, what do you make of that?" Father Claude shook his head. "Nothing, as yet, M'sieu. Do you know who the large man is?" "No; but I seem to remember him. And what is more to the point, he certainly remembers me." "Are you sure?" "He recognized me on the river. He came back with me so willingly because he wanted to know more about us. That was plain. It would be well, Father, to enquire at the Mission. We should know more of them and their errand at Three Rivers." Menard called Danton, and walked with him a little way into the wood. "Danton," he said, "you are going through this journey with us, and I intend that you shall know about such matters as this meeting with the Onondagas." "Oh, they were Onondagas?" "Yes. They claim to be Mission Indians, but neither the Father nor I altogether believe them." In a few sentences Menard outlined the conversation. "Now, Danton, this may or may not be an important incident. I want you to know the necessity for keeping our own counsel in all such matters, dropping no careless words, and letting no emotions show. I wish you would make a point of learning the Iroquois language. Father Claude will help you. You are to act as my right-hand man, and you may as well begin now to learn to draw your own conclusions from an Indian's words." Danton took eagerly to the lessons with Father Claude, for they seemed another definite step toward the excitement that surely, to his mind, lay in wait ahead. The studying began on that afternoon, while they were toiling up against the stream. In the evening, when the dusk was coming down, and the little camp was ready for the night, Menard came up from the heap of stores, where the _voyageurs_ had already stretched out, and found the maid sitting alone by the fire. Danton, in his rush of interest in the new study, had drawn Father Claude aside for another lesson. "Mademoiselle is lonely?" asked Menard, sitting beside her. "No, no, M'sieu. I have too many thoughts for that." "What interesting thoughts they must be."