Each party silently regarded the other. A few rapid
interrogations from the stranger, uttered in the broad patois of the Lower
Province, were answered in a mixture of broken French and English by Louis.
A change like lightning passed over the face of the old man as he cried
out--"Louis Perron, son of my ancient compagnon."
"Oui! oui!"--with eyes sparkling through tears of joy, Louis threw himself
into the broad breast of Jacob Morelle, his father's friend and old
lumbering comrade.
"Hector, son of la belle Catharine Perron,--and Hector, in his turn,
received the affectionate embrace of the warm-hearted old man.
"Who would have thought of meeting with the children of my old comrade here
at the shore of the Rice Lake?--oh! what a joyful meeting!"
Jacob had a hundred questions to ask: Where were their parents? did they
live on the Plains now? how long was it since they had left the Cold
Springs? were there any more little ones? and so forth.
The boys looked sorrowfully at each other. At last the old man stopped for
want of breath, and remarked their sad looks.
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