Without further words, Father Claude walked up the bank, crackling through the bushes. From this spot the voices were inaudible, and for a few moments there was no sound. Then Menard could hear some one moving heavily through the undergrowth, going farther and farther into the stillness, and he knew that it was Danton. He sat on the bank with his back against a tree, and waited for a long hour. At last he dropped asleep. He was awakened by Father Claude. The priest dropped to the ground beside him. His training had given Menard the faculty of awaking instantly into full grasp of a situation. "Well," he said. "Where is the maid?" "She has gone to her couch, but not to sleep, I fear. It has come, M'sieu." "What has come?" "Danton has lost his senses. He asks her to marry him, to flee with him. It is a difficult case. She has had no such experience before, and knows not how to receive him. She seems to have no love for him, beyond the pleasure his flattery has given her. She believes all he says. One thing I know, aside from all questions of expediency, of care for our trust, this must not go on." "Not for the present, at least. She may do what she will, once we have taken her safely to Frontenac." "No, M'sieu; not even then. We must stop it at once." "Oh, of course," said Menard; "so far as we are concerned, we have no choice. You need not bother longer to-night. I will wait for the boy. I am sorry for him." "I should have more pity, if I knew less of his past." "Tush, Father! He is not a bad fellow, as they go. To be sure he does not rise any too well to new responsibilities, but he will grow into it. It is better an honest infatuation with the daughter of a gentleman than a dishonest one with an Indian maid. And you know our officers, Father. God knows, they are all bad enough; and yet they are loyal fellows." "Ah, M'sieu, I fear you will be too lenient with him. Believe me, we have not a minute to waste in stopping the affair." "Have no fear, Father. Good-night." "Good-night." Menard lay on the bank, gazing at the sparkling water, and listening to the slow step of the sentry and to the deeper sounds of the forest. Another hour crept by, and still Danton had not returned. Menard walked about the camp to make sure that he was not already rolled in his blanket; then he went to the sentry, who was leaning against a tree a few rods away. "Colin," he said, "have you seen Lieutenant Danton?" "Yes, M'sieu. He is up there." Colin pointed through the trees that fringed the river. "I heard a noise some time ago, and went up to see. He is lying under a beech tree, if he has not moved,--and I should have heard him if he had. It may be that he is asleep." Menard nodded, and walked slowly along the bank, bending aside the briers that caught at his clothes and his hands. CHAPTER VI. THE FIGHT AT LA GALLETTE.