“When we got to Chicoutimi where provisions could reach us by water we were worse off than Indians, pretty nearly naked, all scratched and torn, and I well remember some who began to cry when told they could go home, because they thought they would find all their people dead, so long bad the time seemed to them.  Hardship!  That was hardship if you like.”

“That is so,” said Chapdelaine, “I can recall those days.  Not a single house on the north side of the lake:  no one but Indians and a few trappers who made their way up here in summer by canoe and in winter with dog-sleds, much as it is now in the Labrador.”

The young folk were listening keenly to these tales of former times.  “And now,” said Esdras, “here we are fifteen miles beyond the lake, and when the Roberval boat is running we can get to the railway in twelve hours.”

They meditated upon this for a while without a word, contrasting past and present; the cruel harshness of life as once it was, the easy day’s journey now separating them from the marvels of the iron way, and the thought of it filled them with naive wonder.

All at once Chien set up a low growl; the sound was heard of approaching footsteps.  “Another visitor!” Madame Chapdelaine announced in a tone mingling pleasure and astonishment.

Maria also arose, agitated, smoothing her hair with unconscious hand; but it was Ephrem Surprenant of Honfleur who opened the door.

“We have come to pay you a visit!” He shouted this with the air of one who announces a great piece of news.  Behind him was someone unknown to them, who bowed and smiled in a very mannerly way.

“My nephew Lorenzo,” was Ephrem Surprenant’s introduction, “a son of my brother Elzear who died last autumn.  You never met him, it is a long time since he left this country for the States.”

They were quick to find a chair for the young man from the States, and the uncle undertook the duty of establishing the nephew’s genealogy on both sides of the house, and of setting forth his age, trade and the particulars of his life, in obedience to the Canadian custom.  “Yes, a son of my brother Elzear who married a young Bourglouis of Kiskisink.  You should be able to recall that, Madame Chapdelaine?”

From the depths of her memory mother Chapdelaine unearthed a number of Surprenants and as many Bourglouis, and gave the list with their baptismal names, successive places of residence and a full record of their alliances.

“Right.  Precisely right.  Well, this one here is Lorenzo.  He has been in the States for many years, working in a factory.”

Frankly interested, everyone took another good look at Lorenzo Surprenant.  His face was rounded, with well-cut features, eyes gentle and unwavering, hands white; with his head a little on one side he smiled amiably, neither superior nor embarrassed under this concentrated gaze.

“He came here,” continued his uncle, “to settle affairs after the death of Elzear, and to try to sell the farm.”