Towards three o'clock in the afternoon Séraphin gulped down five buckwheat pancakes like an animal, and drank a big bowl of water. He had been watching out for Alexis for an hour when he noticed that a carriage laden with wood had just passed by his front door.

"Alexis, Alexis," he cried.

"Whoa," replied a loud voice that could be heard throughout the surrounding wood.

And the wagon stopped at the top of the hill.

"Ah, I'm so glad to see you," said Poudrier going up to him.

He also said hello to Bertine who was sitting on the pile of logs beside her father.

"You know that Donalda is not at all well?" he continued.

Crouched on top of the pile of logs, the reins in his left hand and a long pizzle whip in his right, Alexis stared at him. An expression of great concern gradually suffused his face, marked with a scar on his forehead, the trace of a wound he had received at the MacLaren logging camp in the upper reaches of the R. Lièvre, during a furious battle of fists and axes. At last he said:

"Good God! What's wrong with her? I'll go and see her."

"No, no," said Séraphin. "She's resting; don't disturb her."

"Alright. But how long has she been like this?"

"Since yesterday."

"Shall I go and fetch the doctor?"

"It's not necessary. I think it's just a bit of indigestion. But it would be a great help if you would leave Bertine with me to see to the day-to-day things and various bits and pieces.

"It's the least I can do, Séraphin. Get down, Bertine."

And Alexis' pretty sixteen year old daughter, lively, bright-eyed, with the complexion of a ripe apple, jumped down onto the icy grass.

"You see," continued the extravagant cousin, "I was taking her to the village to get some underwear and lace, and the devil knows what all. But that can keep for another time."

He was now standing upright, balanced on the logs. In his day Alexis had been one of the best log drivers ** on the Lièvre and Rouge rivers. He hadn't changed a bit. At this moment, proud, his body handsome and arched, he towered over the plain and the river. Before leaving he said :

"Anyway, take good care of Donalda. You know there's no-one like her. I'll be very upset if anything happens to her. I'll be back at five o'clock."

And he thought to himself, "She's so delicate and so beautiful."

"Don't worry," said Poudrier, turning towards the house with Bertine.

From far away in the grey overcast air, you could hear Alexis' resounding voice calling to his two horses : "Soldier! Prince! Dammit Prince, get going!"

But no-one could hear his heart which was saying :

"Poor Donalda. It can’t be serious, can it?  Good God, this is terrible. Anyway, I won't stop off at the bar; I have to be back here for five o'clock."

"Soldier! Prince"

** Can’t think what to call this occupation in English – the person who balances on the logs as they float down the river.