When he did, he walked up and down on the path, holding the priest’s arm, and trying to 282 speak. They had rounded the large maple three times before he said:––
“You did not tell me, Father.”
“What, my son?”
The Captain stopped, and drawing the priest around, pointed toward the maid as she slept.
“You did not tell me––why we are taking her to Frontenac.”
“No. She asked it. We spoke of it only once, that night on the river. She was confused, and she asked me not to speak. She does not know him. She has not seen him since she was a child.”
Menard said nothing. He was gripping the priest’s arm, and gazing at the sleeping maid.
“It was her father,” added Father Claude.
Menard’s hand relaxed.
“Good-night, Father.” He walked slowly toward the bed on the knoll. And Father Claude called softly after him:––