"Bring him ashore," I returned.
The boat headed about and approached the bank. Then the rowers ceased pulling; for the water was shallow, and we were within speaking distance.
"Now, Louis, what do you mean by this nonsense?" I began.
In answer, the Frenchman leaped out of the boat and waded ashore.
"Let them go on," he said, scrambling up the cliff in a staggering, faint fashion.
"If you meant to stay at the fort, why didn't you decide sooner?" I demanded roughly.
"I didn't." This doggedly and with downcast eyes.
"Then you go down the lake with the rest and no skulking!"
"Gillespie," answered Louis in a low tone, "there's strength of an ox in you, but not the wit. Let them go on! Simpleton, I tell you of Miriam."
His words recalled the real reason of my presence in the north country; for my quest had indeed been eclipsed by the fearful events of the past week. I signalled the rowers to go without him, waved a last farewell to Frances Sutherland, and turned to see Louis Laplante throw himself on the grass and cry like a schoolboy. Dismounting I knelt beside him.