lovely woman who murmured loving, broken words. One she heard
distinctly--a gentle voice that said, "God's love be with you,
little one, for you have far to go, and many days to pass before
you see Quebec again." And the girl's eyes suddenly swam bright,
for the northland was very dreary. She threw her palms out in a
gesture of weariness.

Then her arms dropped, her eyes widened, her head bent forward in
the attitude of listening.

"Achille!" she called. "Achille! Come here!"

The young fellow approached respectfully.

"Mademoiselle?" he asked.

"Don't you hear?" she said.

Faint, between intermittent silences, came the singing of men's
voices from the south.

"_Grace a Dieu_!" cried Achille. "Eet is so. Eet is dat
_brigade_!"

He ran shouting toward the factory.




Chapter Two