“Yes,” replied the priest, “yes.” He walked slowly by them, and about in a circle, repeating the word. The maid leaned back and watched him, wondering. He paused before the Captain and seemed about to speak. Then abruptly he went into the hut, and they could hear him moving within. Menard and the maid looked at each other, the soldier smiling quietly. He understood.
Father Claude came out holding the portrait of Catharine, the Lily of the Onondagas, in his hands.
“It may be that this could be used for the fourth present,” he said.
Menard took it without a word, and laid it on the ground by the fur coat. The maid looked at it curiously.
“Oh, it is a picture,” she said.
“Yes, Mademoiselle,” the Captain replied. “It is the portrait of an Onondaga maiden who is to them, and to the French, almost a saint. They will prize this above all else.”
The maid raised it, and looked at the strangely clad figure. Father Claude quietly walked away, but Menard went after and gripped his hand.