The heavy shades being closely drawn at the windows, the interior was in such gloom that for the moment after my entrance from the outside glare I was unable to distinguish one object from another.

Then slowly my eyes adjusted themselves to the change, and, taking one uncertain step forward, I came suddenly face to face with a Capuchin priest appearing almost ghastly with his long, pale, ascetic countenance, and ghostly gray robe sweeping to the floor.
Startled by this unexpected apparition, and experiencing an American borderer's dislike and distrust for his class, I made a hasty move back toward where, with unusual carelessness, I had deposited my rifle against the wall.

Yet as I placed hand upon it I had sufficiently recovered to laugh silently at my fears.
"Thou hast responded with much promptitude, my son," the priest said in gentle voice, speaking the purest of French, and apparently not choosing to notice my momentary confusion.

"It is indeed an excellent trait--one long inculcated by our Order." "And one not unknown to mine--free rangers of the woods, sir priest," I replied coldly, resolving not to be outdone in bluntness of speech.

"I suppose you are the 'lady' desiring speech with me; I note you come dressed in character.