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Updated: May 4, 2025
'I was then living at the Chenaux; there was a German priest on the island; I sent over two half-breeds every ten days for the mail, and through them I heard of the stranger at the Agency. He was French, they said, and it was rumored in the saloons along the frozen docks that he had seen Paris. This warmed my heart; for, madame, I spent my youth in Paris, the dear, the beautiful city!
This is the river de Fouez of Jacques Cartier, and the Metaberoutin of the Indians, and now the river St. Maurice, to which historians have given the name of Three Rivers, because two islands divide it into three branches at its entrance; these branches are called Les Chenaux, or the narrow channels.
'There is Jacques out washing his cloths. 'There is Jacques going to buy his coffee, 'There is Jacques sitting on the piazza, said the islanders; the old man served them instead of a clock. 'One dark autumn day I came over from the Chenaux to get the mail.
Judge Black was a member of two fishing clubs, one at Les Chenaux Islands, near Mackinac, and the other about forty miles north of Minneapolis, so Porter sent long and urgent telegrams to both these places. Then he began making long shots, working through a list of more or less likely places, which his knowledge of Black's tastes and habits enabled him to get together.
'We were comrades, he and I; he would not come over to the Chenaux; he was unhappy if the routine of his day was disturbed, but I often stayed a day with him at the Agency, for I too liked the silent house. It has its relics, by the way. Have you noticed a carved door in the back part of the main building? That was brought from the old chapel on the mainland, built as early as 1700.
But no one can discover anything more than I have told you, and those who have persisted so far as to sail over to the Chenaux either lose their way among the channels, or if they find the house, they never find him; the door is locked, and no one answers. 'Singular, I said. 'He has nothing of the hermit about him. He has what I should call a courtly manner.
'That is Father Piret's boat, said my hostess. 'The wind is fair; he will reach the Chenaux before midnight. A day later, and I too sailed away. As the steamer bore me southward, I looked back toward the island with a sigh.
After a time my little hostess came out on to the piazza, and we all talked together of the island and its past. 'My boat is waiting, said Father Piret at length; 'the wind is fair, and I must return to the Chenaux to-night. This near departure is my excuse for coming twice in one day to see you, madame. 'Stay over, my dear sir, I urged. 'I too shall leave in another day.
'When I was living at the fort, fifteen years ago, I heard occasionally of Father Piret, I said, 'but he seemed to be almost a mythic personage. What is his history? 'No one knows. He came here fifty years ago, and after officiating on the island a few years, he retired to a little Indian farm in the Chenaux, where he has lived ever since.
The steamer came in slowly, the mail was distributed slowly, and I stopped to read my letters before returning. I had a picture-paper for Jacques, and as I looked out across the straits, I saw that the storm was over, and decided to return to the Chenaux in the afternoon, leaving word with my half-breeds to have the sail-boat in readiness at three o'clock.
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