"Whist now!" said Big Mack, in a low voice. "He has the sight. Be quate
now, will you? He will be speaking."

For a short time Macdonald sat gazing into the fire in silence, then
turning his face toward the men who were waiting, he said: "There will
be no more of this. 'Vengeance is mine saith the Lord!' It is not for
me. The Lord will do His own work. It is the will of the Lord." And
the men knew that the last word had been said on that subject, and that
LeNoir was safe.



CHAPTER III

THE MANSE IN THE BUSH


Straight north from the St. Lawrence runs the road through the Indian
Lands. At first its way lies through open country, from which the forest
has been driven far back to the horizon on either side, for along the
great river these many years villages have clustered, with open fields
about them stretching far away. But when once the road leaves the
Front, with its towns and villages and open fields, and passes beyond
Martintown and over the North Branch, it reaches a country where the
forest is more a feature of the landscape. And when some dozen or more
of the crossroads marking the concessions which lead off to east and
west have been passed, the road seems to strike into a different world.
The forest loses its conquered appearance, and dominates everything.
There is forest everywhere. It lines up close and thick along the road,
and here and there quite overshadows it. It crowds in upon the little