“Perrot is too fond of grease,” Menard said. “I must tell him to use less grease.”
“If she should be taken sick, we could leave her with someone at Montreal.”
“Leave her at Montreal!” exclaimed Menard. “When she breaks down, it will be in the rapids. And then I must either go on alone, or wait with you until she is strong enough to be carried. In any case it means confusion and delay. And I must not be delayed.”
“What have you in mind to do?”
“We must find a way to brighten her spirits. It is homesickness that worries her, and sorrow for her father, and dread of what is before and around her. I’ll warrant she has never been away from her home before. We must get her confidence,––devise ways to cheer her, brighten her.”
“I can reason with her, and––” 46
“This is not the time for reasoning, Father. What we must do is to make her stop thinking, stop looking backward and forward. And there is Danton; he can help. He is of an age with her, and should succeed where you and I might fail.”
“He has not awaited the suggestion, Captain.”
“Yes, I know. But he must,––well, Father, it has all been said. The maid is on our hands, and must be got to Frontenac. That is all. And there is nothing for it but to rely on Danton to help.”
The priest looked at his brushes, and hesitated. “I am not certain,” he said, “she is very young. And Lieutenant Danton,––I have heard, while at Quebec,––”