“Perhaps,” she said at length, “you expect to hear the gun because the vessel ought to be here by this time.”
As she spoke, La Roche came up and touched his cap. “Please, madame, vat you vill have pour dinner?”
“Whatever you please, La Roche. Repeat yesterday’s,” answered Mrs Stanley, with the air of one who did not wish to be troubled further on the subject. But La Roche was not to be so easily put down.
“Ah, madame! pardonnez moi. Dat is impossible. Ve have fresh fish yesterday, dere be no fresh fish to-day. More de pity. C’est dommage—dat Gaspard him gone away—”
La Roche was interrupted by a sudden exclamation from his master, who pointed, while he gazed earnestly, towards the narrows of the river. It seemed as if the scene of last year were repeated in a vision. Against the dark rock appeared the white, triangular sail of a vessel. Slowly, like a phantom, it came into view, for the wind was very light; while the three spectators on the beach gazed with beating hearts, scarcely daring to credit their eyes. In a few seconds another sail appeared—a schooner floated into view; a white cloud burst from her bows, and once again the long, silent echoes of Ungava were awakened by the roaring of artillery. The men of the fort left their several employments and rushed to the beach to welcome the vessel with a cheer; but although it was heartfelt and vigorous, it was neither so prolonged nor so enthusiastic as it was on the first occasion of the ship’s arrival.
As the vessel dropped anchor opposite the fort, Frank Morton leaped on her bow, and along with the crew returned the cheer with a degree of energy that awakened memories of other days.
“There’s Frank!” cried Stanley, turning on his wife a glance of joy. “Bless the boy! It warms my heart to see him. He must have picked up some Indian woman by the way. I see the flutter of a petticoat.”
As he spoke, the boat pushed off from the vessel’s side, and a few rapid strokes sent it bounding towards the shore.
“Eh! what’s this?” exclaimed Stanley, as his wife broke from him, and with a wild shriek rushed into the lake.
The figure of a child stood on the boat’s bow, with her arms extended to the shore.