"I'm afraid we'll have to take away a part of your house to pay for your supper," he said. "Everything is wet outside that might do for firewood. Lend a hand, Danton." He gathered logs and sticks from the floor and walls, and carried them out. Danton, after a quick look toward the maid (which, of course, Menard saw), did the same. The Captain was the first to reenter the hut. The maid had not moved, and her eyes were puzzled and wearied, but she tried to smile. "Has it stopped raining?" she asked. Menard gave her an amused glance, and pointed to a sparkling beam of sunlight that came slanting in through an opening in the wall, and buried itself in a little pool of light on the trampled ground. She looked at it, flushed, and turned her eyes away. He stood for a moment, half minded to ask the question that was on his tongue, but finally held it back. In a moment Danton came back, looking suspiciously at each of them as he stooped to gather another armful of wood. Menard was thoughtful during the evening meal. Afterward he slipped his arm through Father Claude's, and led him for a short walk, giving him an account of the incident. "I didn't say anything at the time," he concluded, "partly because I thought I might be mistaken, and partly because it would have been the worst thing I could do. I begin to see--I should have foreseen it before I spoke to him about the girl--that we have trouble ahead, Father, with these precious children. I confess I don't know just what to do about it. We must think it over. Anyway, you had better talk to her. She would tell you what she wouldn't tell me. If he's annoying her, we must know it." Father Claude was troubled. "The maid is in our care," he said, "and also in that of Lieutenant Danton. It would seem that he--" "There's no use in expecting him to take any responsibility, Father." "Yes, I suppose you are right. He is a child." "Will you go to the maid, Father, and get straight at the truth? You see that I cannot meddle with her thoughts without danger of being misinterpreted. It is you who must be her adviser." The priest acquiesced, and they returned to the camp, to find the maid still sitting alone, with a troubled face, and Danton puttering about the fire with a show of keeping himself occupied. They ate in silence, in spite of Menard's efforts to arouse them. After the meal they hung about, each hesitating to wander away, and yet seeing no pleasure in gathering about the fire. Menard saw that Father Claude had it in mind to speak to the maid, so he got Danton away on a pretext of looking over the stores. But he said nothing of the episode that was in all their minds, preferring to await the priest's report. After the maid had gone to her couch beneath the canoe, and Danton had wandered into the wilderness that was all about them, Father Claude joined Menard at the fire. "Well, Father, what word?" "Softly, M'sieu. It is not likely that she sleeps as yet." "Well?"