“Terrible,” she whispered.  “Mother told me what happened.  She is stronger this morning.  We must keep the truth from him.”

“The truth?”

He felt her start.

“Hush!” she breathed.  “You know—­you understand what I mean.  Let us sit down to breakfast now.”

During the hour that followed Philip was amazed at Miriam.  She laughed and talked as she had not done before.  The bit of artificial colour she had given to her cheeks and lips faded under the brighter flush that came into her face.  He could see that Josephine was nearly as surprised as himself.  John Adare was fairly boyish in his delight.  The meal was finished and Philip and Adare were about to light their cigars when a commotion outside drew them all to the window that overlooked one side of the clearing.  Out of the forest had come two dog-teams, their drivers shouting and cracking their long caribou-gut whips.  Philip stared, conscious that Josephine’s hand was clutching his arm.  Neither of the shouting men was Jean.

“An Indian, and Renault the quarter-blood,” grunted Adare.  “Wonder what they want here in November.  They should be on their trap-lines.”

“Perhaps, Mon Pere, they have come to see their friends,” suggested Josephine.  “You know, it has been a long time since some of them have seen us.  I would be disappointed if our people didn’t show they were glad because of your home-coming!”

“Of course, that’s it!” cried Adare.  “Ho, Metoosin!” he roared, turning toward the door.  “Metoosin!  Paitoo ta!  Wawep isewin!”

Metoosin appeared at the door.

“Build a great fire in the una kah house,” commanded Adare.  Feed all who come in from the forests, Metoosin.  Open up tobacco and preserves, and flour and bacon.  Nothing in the storeroom is too good for them.  And send Jean to me!  Where is he?”

“Numma tao, ookimow.”

“Gone!” exclaimed Adare.

“He didn’t want to disturb you last night,” explained Philip.  “He made an early start for the Pipestone.”

“If he was an ordinary man, I’d say he was in love with one of the Langlois girls,” said Adare, with a shrug of his shoulders.  “Neah, Metoosin!  Make them comfortable, and we will all see them later.”  As Metoosin went Adare turned upon the others:  “Shall we all go out now?” he asked.

“Splendid!” accepted Josephine eagerly.  “Come, Mikawe, we can be ready in a moment!”

She ran from the room, leading her mother by the hand.  Philip and Adare followed them, and shortly the four were ready to leave the house.  The una kah, or guest house, was in the edge of the timber.  It was a long, low building of logs, and was always open with its accommodations to the Indians and half-breeds—­men, women, and children—­who came in from the forest trails.  Renault and the Indian were helping Metoosin build fires when they entered.  Philip thought that Renault’s eyes rested upon him in a curious and searching glance even as Adare shook hands with him.  He was more interested in the low words both the Indian and the blood muttered as they stood for a moment with bowed heads before Josephine and Miriam.  Then Renault raised his head and spoke direct to Josephine: