The voice in the canoe behind me ceased. The rain let up. The SLISH, SLISH of the paddle stopped. The canoe swung sideways to the breeze. I heard the RAP, RAP, RAP of a pipe on the gunwale, and the quick scratch of a match on the under side of the thwart.

“What are you doing, Ferdinand?”

“I go to light the pipe, m’sieu’.”

“Is the story finished?”

“But yes—but no—I know not, m’sieu’. As you will.”

“But what did old Girard say when his daughter broke her engagement and married a man whose eyes were spoiled?”

“He said that Leclere could see well enough to work with him in the store.”

“And what did Vaillantcoeur say when he lost his girl?”

“He said it was a cursed shame that one could not fight a blind man.”

“And what did ‘Toinette say?”

“She said she had chosen the bravest heart in Abbeville.”

“And Prosper—what did he say?”

“M’sieu’, I know not. He said it only to ‘Toinette.”