Chapdelaine was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his face working,--mechanically striking one fist upon the other.

At length he spoke:--"It shows we are but little children in the hand of the good God.

Francois was one of the best men of these parts in the woods, and at finding his way; people who came here used to take him as guide, and always did he bring them back without mishap.

And now he himself is lost.

We are but little children.