"Not all, Jean. I was too much afraid, and I hid behind the rock. Oh, why did I not stop it? Mon Dieu, but it was terrible! You are a hero, Jean Baptiste."
"No, Blanchette, far from it. A brute, rather, a species of tiger. At one time I would gladly have killed them all, and drunk their blood. Mon Dieu, what an uprising from the depths! But now that has passed; and the man, the Christian, is sorry for the deeds of the brute; But you do not understand such things, Blanchette."
"No? You think not? Ah, if it were only so. But I, too, have my struggles, my conflicts. But oh, Jean, you are hurt! Ah, my poor Jean, he can hardly walk. Lie down here, on the cool moss, and I will fetch some water from the stream. Ah, Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!"
"No, I am all right. A little dizziness--that was all. It is gone now, and I must go. No, Blanchette, it is not I who need you, but Pamphile down there. For me, I could not touch him. Ah, the poor fellow! A strong man and brave; yes, brave to the last. Adieu, Blanchette."
"Adieu!" said Blanchette, going away; and then she turned, suddenly, fiercely:
"Jean!"
"What is it, Blanchette?"
"Nothing," she said, as she turned away down the path. "There was something, but I have forgotten. Adieu, my friend. May God keep you."
CHAPTER XXII
THE WILDERNESS