Ben was soon after called by the detective to re-engage in the hunt for Rawdon, who was now known to be wounded, and, therefore, to be lurking somewhere in the neighbourhood.  Mrs. Carmichael accompanied Mr. Errol on a visit to Matilda Nagle at the post office.  The absence of the minister made the morning game of golf impossible, so that Mr. Perrowne had to surrender himself to the care of Miss Halbert, which he did with a fine grace of cheerful resignation.  Mr. Douglas expressed a desire to take a walk in the surrounding country, and the dominie echoed it, with the condition that the ladies should share in the excursion.  The Squire and Mrs. Carruthers were busy; the doctor had his patient to look after, and expected to be summoned to the other at the post office; and Mr. Terry occupied himself with the children.  But Mrs. Du Plessis and her daughter, Miss Graves, Miss Halbert, and, of course the colonel and Mr. Perrowne, were willing to be pedestrians, if the proposers of the tramp promised not to walk too fast.  There was a pretty hillside, beyond Talfourds on the road towards the Beaver River, from which the timber had once been removed, and which was now covered, but not too thickly, with young second growth; and thither the party determined to wend their way.  Marjorie had intended to stay at home, in the hope of being allowed to see Eugene again, but the doctor had begged her to leave him alone for a day or two, and now the prospect of blackberry and thimbleberry picking on the hillside was too much for her to resist.  Gaining permission from her aunt, she loaded Jim with baskets and little tin pails, and led him away to the road between herself and Miss Graves.  The other gentlemen relieved the burdened Edinburghian of portions of his load, and fell into natural pairs with the ladies, Miss Du Plessis and Wilkinson bringing up the rear.  There was a pleasant lake breeze to temper the heat of the fine August morning, which gave the dominie license to quote his favourite poet:—­

     And now I call the pathway by thy name,
     And love the fir-grove with a perfect love. 
     Thither do I withdraw when cloudless suns
     Shine hot, or wind blows troublesome and strong.

Anticipating the thimbleberries, he recited:—­

     Thy luscious fruit the boy well knows,
     Wild bramble of the brake.

Miss Du Plessis liked that sort of thing.  It was a blessed relief from type-written legal business letters.  So she responded in the lines of Lamartine:—­

     Mon coeur a ce reveil du jour que Dieu renvoie,
     Vers un ciel qui sourit s’eleve sar sa joie,
     Et de ces dons nouveaux rendant grace au Seigneur,
     Murmure en s’eveillant son hymne interieur,
     Demande un jour de paix, de bonheur, d’innocence,
     Un jour qui pese entier dans la sainte balance,
     Quand la main qui les pese a ses poids infinis
     Retranchera du temps ceux qu’il n’a pas benis!