"You must not; do you hear ?" The young man's eyes and mouth at once began to have a sullen expression; evidently he was not pleased and felt rebellious; but it was hard for him to resist Father Beret, whom he loved, as did every soul in the post.

The priest's voice was sweet and gentle, yet positive to a degree.

Rene did not say a word.
"Promise me that you will not taste liquor this night," Father Beret went on, grasping the young man's arm more firmly; "promise me, my son, promise me." Still Rene was silent.

The men did not look at each other, but gazed away across the country beyond the Wabash to where a glory from the western sun flamed on the upper rim of a great cloud fragment creeping along the horizon.

Warm as the day had been, a delicious coolness now began to temper the air; for the wind had shifted into the northwest.