their work with him on eye and hand.  The running ice in the spring flood of the Eagle River got itself under the nose of the good Father’s canoe, and the current did the rest.  His feeble cry would have brought no aid, had not Kalman, at the very moment, been shoving out his canoe into the current of the Eagle.  A few strong sweeps of the paddle, and Kalman had the old priest in tow, and in a few minutes, with Brown’s aid, into the hospital and snugly in bed, with his canoe, and what of his stuff could be rescued, safe under cover.  Two days of Irma’s nursing and of Brown’s treatment, and the ill effects of his chilly dip had disappeared sufficiently to allow the Father to proceed on his way.

“Eet will be to me a pleasant remembrance of your hospitalite,” he said to Brown on the morning of the third day.

“And to us of your stay, Father Garneau,” replied Brown.  “But you need not go to-day.  You are not strong enough, and, besides, I have some work for you.  There is a poor Galician woman with us here who cannot see the morning.  She could not bear the priest Klazowski.  She had trouble with him, and I think you could comfort her.”

“Ah, dat Klazowski!” exclaimed Pere Garneau.  “Eet ees not a good man.  Many peep’ tell me of dat man.  He will be no more priest, for certainly.  I would see dis woman, poor soul!”

“To-night Kalman will be here,” said Brown, “and he will interpret for you.”

“Ah, he ees a fine young man, Kalman.  He mak’ troub’ for dat priest, ees eet not?”

“Well, I am afraid he did,” said Brown, laughing.  “But I fancy it was the priest made trouble for himself.”

“Yes, dat ees so, and dat ees de worse troub’ of all,” said the wise old man.

The poor woman made her confession, received her Sacrament, and thus comforted and at peace, made exit from this troubled life.

“My son,” said the priest to Kalman when the service was over, “I would be glad to confess you.”

“Thank you, Father,” said Kalman.  “I make my confession to God.”

“Ah, my son, you have been injured in your faith by dat bad priest Klazowski.”

“No, I think not,” said Kalman.  “I have for some years been reading my Bible, and I have lived beside a good man who has taught me to know God and our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.  I seek to follow him as Peter and the others did.  But I am no longer of the Galician way of religion, neither Greek nor Roman.”

“My son,” exclaimed the old priest in horror, “you are not an apostate?  You have not denied your faith?”

“No, I have not.  I try to please Christ.”

Long and painfully, and with tears, did the old priest labour with Kalman, to whom his soul went out in gratitude and affection, but without making any change in the young man’s mind.  The teaching, but more the life, of his friend had not been lost, and Kalman had come to see clearly his way.

Next morning the good Father was ready for his journey.