The Hunters of the Hills Page 11

  CHAPTER IX

  AT THE INN

  When Quebec came into view Robert stood up and looked long at the greatrock and the town that crowned it, hung on its slopes and nestled at thefoot of the cliffs below. Brilliant sunshine gilded its buildings ofstone and gray wood, and played like burnished gold on the steeples ofits many churches. In the distance the streets leading up the steepcliffs looked like mere threads, but in the upper town the great publicbuildings, the Intendant's Palace, the Cathedral, Notre Dame de laVictoire, the convents of the Ursuline Nuns and the Recollet Friars, theBishop's Palace, and others raised for the glory and might of France,were plainly visible.

  In more than one place he saw the Bourbon lilies floating and from thelittle boat on which he stood in the stream it looked like a grim andimpregnable fortress of the Old World. The wonderful glow of the air,and the vast river flowing at its feet, magnified and coloredeverything. It was a city ten times its real size and the distanceturned gray wood to gray stone. Everything was solid, immovable, and itseemed fit to defy the world.

  Robert felt a catch in his breath. He had often seen Quebec, great andbeautiful, in his dreams, but the reality was equal to it and more. Tothe American of that day Quebec was one of the vital facts of life. Fromthat fortress issued the daring young French soldiers of fortune who ledthe forays against New York and New England. It was the seat of thepower that threatened them continually. Many of the Bostonnais, seizedin their fields, had been brought here as prisoners to be returned homeonly after years, or never. From this citadel, too, poured the stream ofarms and presents for the Indians who were to lie in ambush along theEnglish border, or to make murderous incursions upon the villages. Fromit flowed the countless dangers that had threatened the northernprovinces almost continually for a century and a half. The Bostonnaisthemselves, mark of the initiative and energy that were to distinguishthem so greatly later on, made a mighty effort against it, and doubtlesswould have succeeded, had they been allowed to carry the fight to afinish.

  No man from New York or New England could look upon it without amingling of powerful emotions. It was the Carthage to their Rome. Headmired and yet he wished to conquer. He felt that permanent safetycould never come to the northern border until the Bourbon lilies ceasedto float over the great fortress that looked down on the St. Lawrence.Robert was not the only one who felt strong emotion. Tayoga stood besidehim, his nostrils expanding and his gaze fierce:

  "Stadacona!" he said under his breath, "Stadacona of the Ganeagaono,our great brother nation!"

  But the emotion of de Galisonniere was of pleasure only. His eyessparkled with joy and admiration. He was delighted to come back toQuebec, the gay city that he beheld through the eyes of youth andglowing recollections. He knew the corruption and wickedness of Bigotand of Cadet and of Pean and of the whole reckless circle about theIntendant, but Quebec, with its gallant men and its beautiful women; itsmanners of an Old World aristocracy and its air of a royal court, hadmany pleasures, and why should youth look too far into the future?

  And yet another stood up and looked at Quebec, with emotions all hisown, and unlike those of the three who were so young. Father Drouillard,tall in his black robe, gazed fixedly at the rock, and raised his handin a gesture much like that with which he had cursed the chateau ofCount Jean de Mezy. His eyes were set and stern, but, as the sun fell infloods of burnished gold on the cathedral and the convents, his accusinglook softened, became sad, then pitying, then hopeful.

  "A wonderful sight, Father Drouillard," said Willet, who stood at hiselbow and who also gazed at Quebec with feelings quite his own. "I'veseen it before, but I can never see it too often."

  "Mr. Willet," said the priest, "you and I are greater in years thanthese youths, and perhaps for that reason we can look farther into thefuture. Youth fears nothing, but age fears everything. You come toQuebec now in peace, and I trust that you may never come in war. I canfeel, nay I can see the clouds gathering over our two lands. Why shouldwe fight? On a continent so vast is there not room enough for all?"

  "Room and to spare," replied the hunter, "but as you say, FatherDrouillard, you and I have lived longer than these youths, and age hasto think. If left to themselves I've no doubt that New France and theEnglish colonies could make a lasting peace, but the intrigues, thejealousies and the hates of the courts at London and Paris keep ourforests, four thousand miles away, astir. When the Huron buries hisarrow in the heart of a foe the motive that sent him to the deed mayhave had its start in Europe, but the poor savage never knows it."

  The priest sighed, and looked at Willet with an awakened curiosity.

  "I see that you're a man of education," he said, "and that you think.What you say is true, but the time will come when other minds than thoseof vain and jealous courtiers will sway the fortunes of all these vastregions. I have asked you nothing of your mission in Quebec, Mr. Willet,but I hope that I will see you again before you return."

  "I hope so too," said the hunter sincerely.

  The _Frontenac_ now drew in to a wharf between the Royal Battery and theDauphin's Battery, and Robert was still all eyes for the picturesquesights that awaited him in the greatest French town of the New World. DeGalisonniere was hailed joyously by young officers and he made joyousreplies. Robert, as they landed, saw anew and in greater detail theimmense strength of Quebec.

  He beheld the line of huge earthworks that Frontenac had built from theriver St. Charles to Cape Diamond, and he saw the massive redoubts linedwith heavy cannon. Now, he wondered at the boldness of the NewEnglanders who had assailed the town with so much vigor, and who mighthave taken it.

  "I recommend to you," said de Galisonniere, "that you go to the Inn ofthe Eagle in the Upper Town. It is kept by Monsieur Berryer, who as ahost is fully equal to Monsieur Jolivet of Montreal, and the merits ofMonsieur Jolivet are not unknown to you."

  "They are not," said Robert heartily, "and we may thank you, Captain deGalisonniere, for your great courtesy in bringing us from Montreal. Wecan only hope for a time in which we shall be able to repay yourkindness."

  After they had slipped some silver pieces to the boatmen and had saidfarewell to Captain de Galisonniere, they took their way up a steepstreet, a swarthy French-Canadian porter carrying their baggage. Here,as at Montreal, the most attention was attracted by Tayoga, and, ifpossible, the young Onondaga grew more haughty in appearance and manner.His moccasined feet spurned the ground, and he gazed about with a fierceand defiant eye.

  Robert knew well what was stirring the spirit of the Onondaga. This wasnot the Quebec of the French, it was the Stadacona of the Mohawks, thegreat brother nation of the Onondagas, and the French here were butinterlopers and robbers.

  But Robert soon lost thought of Tayoga as he looked at the crowded city,and its mingling of the splendid and the squalid, its French andFrench-Canadians, its soldiers and priests and civilians and Indians,its great stone houses, and its wooden huts, its young officers in finewhite uniforms and its swarthy _habitants_ in brown homespun. Albany hadits Dutch, and New York had its Dutch, too, and people from many partsof Europe, but Quebec was different, something altogether new, without atrace of English or Dutch about it, and, for that reason, it made agreat appeal to his curiosity.

  A light open carriage drawn by two stout ponies passed them at anamazing pace considering the steepness of the street, and they saw in ita florid young man in a splendid costume, his powdered hair tied in aqueue.

  "De Mezy," said the priest, who was just behind them.

  Then they knew that it was the young man, the companion of Bigot in hisrevels, against whose chateau Father Drouillard had raised histhreatening hands. Now the priest spoke the name with the most intensescorn and contempt, and Robert, feeling that he might encounter de Mezyagain in this pent-up Quebec, gazed at his vanishing figure withcuriosity. They had their gay blades in New York and Albany and even afew in Boston of the Puritans, but he had not seen anybody like de Mezy.

  "It is such as he who are pulling down New Fr
ance," murmured FatherDrouillard.

  A moment or two later the priest said farewell and departed in thedirection of the cathedral.

  "There goes a man," said Willet, as he looked after the tall figure inthe black robe. "I don't share in the feeling of church against church.I don't see any reason why Protestant should hate Catholic and Catholicshould hate Protestant. I've lived long enough and seen enough to knowthat each church holds good men, and unless I make a big mistake, and Idon't think I make any mistake at all, Father Drouillard is not only agood man, but he has a head full of sense and he's as brave as a lion,too."

  "Lots of priests are," said Robert. "Nobody ever endured the Indiantortures better than they. And what's the figure over the doorway,Dave?"

  "That, Robert, is Le Chien d'Or, The Golden Dog. It's the sign put up byNicholas Jaquin, whom they often called Philibert. This is his warehouseand he was one of the _honnetes gens_ that we've been talking about. Hefought the corrupt officials, he tried to make lower prices for thepeople, and beneath his Golden Dog he wrote:"

  "Je suis un chien qui ronge l'os, En le rongeant je prends mon repos; Un jour viendra qui n'est pas venu, Que je mordrai qui m'aura mordu."

  "That is, some day the dog will bite those who have bitten him?"

  "That's about it, Robert, and I suppose it generally comes true. If youkeep on striking people some of them in time will strike you and strikeyou pretty hard."

  "And does Philibert still run his warehouse beneath his sign of theGolden Dog?"

  "No, Robert. He was too brave, or not cautious enough, and theyassassinated him, but there are plenty of others like him. The Frenchare a brave and honest people, none braver or more honest. I tell youso, because I know them, but their government is corrupt through andthrough. The House of Bourbon is dying of its own poison. It may seemstrange to you, hearing me say it here in the Western world, so far fromVersailles, but I'm not the only one who says so."

  "But I like Quebec," said Robert. "I haven't seen another city thatspeaks to the eye so much."

  They were now well into the Upper Town, and the porter guided them tothe Inn of the Eagle, where Monsieur Paul Berryer, the host, gave them awelcome, and from whom they learned that the Governor General, theMarquis Duquesne, was absent in the east, but would return in two orthree days. Robert was not sorry for the delay, as it would give them achance to see the city, and perhaps, through de Galisonniere, makeacquaintances among the French officers.

  They were able to secure a large room with three beds, and both Robertand Willet drew from their small store of baggage suits quite in thefashion, three-cornered hats, fine coats and waistcoats, knee breeches,stockings and buckled shoes, and as a last and crowning triumph theyproduced handsome small swords or rapiers that they buckled to theirbelts.

  "That canoe of ours wasn't large, but it brought a lot in it," said thehunter.

  Robert surveyed himself in a small glass, and his clothes brought greatpride. A chord in his nature responded to splendor of raiment, and thesurroundings of the great world. Quebec might be corrupt but he couldnot hide from himself his immense interest in it. He noticed, too, thatWillet wore his fine costume naturally.

  "It's not the first time that you've been in such clothes, Dave," hesaid, "and it's not the first time that you've been in a society likethat which makes its home in Quebec."

  "No, it is not," replied Willet, "and some time, Robert, I'll tell youabout those days, but not now."

  Tayoga remained in his dress of a young Indian chief. Even if he had hadany other he would not have put it on, and the fine deerskin and thelofty headdress became him and stamped him for what he was, a prince ofthe forest. He held in his heart, too, a deeper feeling against theFrench than any that animated either Robert or Willet. He could notforget that this was not Quebec, but Stadacona of the Ganeagaono, whoserights were also the rights of the other nations of the Hodenosaunee,and it was here that Frontenac, who had slaughtered the Iroquois, hadmade his home and fortress. The heart of Tayoga of the clan of the Bearof the nation Onondaga, of the great League of the Hodenosaunee, burnedwithin him and the blood in his veins would not grow cool.

  "I suppose, Dave," said Robert, "since we have to wait two days for theMarquis Duquesne, that we might go forth at once and begin seeing thetown."

  "Food first," said the hunter. "We've come a long journey on the riverand we'll test the quality of the, inn."

  It was too cool for the little terrace that adjoined the Inn of theEagle, and Monsieur Berryer had a table set for them in the greatdining-room, which had an oaken floor, oaken beams and much china andglass on shelves about the walls, the whole forming an apartment inwhich the host took a just pride. It was gayer and brighter than theinns of Albany and New York, and again Robert found his spiritresponding to it.

  A fire of light wood that blazed and sparkled merrily burned in a hugestone fireplace at the end of the room, and its grateful warmth enteredinto Robert's blood. He suddenly felt a great exaltation. He was glad tobe there. He was glad that Tayoga and Willet were with him. He was gladthat they had encountered dangers on their journey because they had wona triumph in overcoming them, and by the very act of victory they hadincreased their own strength and confidence. His sensitive, imaginativenature, easily kindled to supreme efforts, thrilled with the thoughts ofthe great deeds they might do.

  His pleasure in the company and the atmosphere increased. Everythingabout him made a strong appeal to good taste. At the end of the room,opposite the fireplace, stood a vast sideboard, upon which china andglass, arranged in harmonious groups, shone and glittered. The broadshelves or niches in the walls held much cut glass, which now and thenthrew back from many facets the ruddy light of the fire. Before sittingdown, they had dipped their hands in a basin of white china filled withwater, and standing beside the door, and that too had pleased Robert'sfastidious taste.

  At their table each of the three found an immaculate white napkin, alarge white china plate and goblet, knife, fork and spoon, all ofsilver, polished to the last degree. Again Robert's nature responded andhe looked at himself in his fine dress in the glittering silver of thegoblet. Then his right hand stole down and caressed the hilt of hisrapier. He felt himself very much of a gentleman, very much of achevalier, fit to talk on equal terms with St. Luc, de Galisonniere orthe best French officer of them all. And Willet, wearing his costlycostume with ease, was very much of a gentleman too, and Tayoga, dressedas the forest prince, was in his own way, and quite as good a way, asmuch of a gentleman as either.

  At least a dozen others were in the great room, and many curious eyeswere upon the three visitors from the south. It was likely that thepresence of such marked figures as theirs would become known quickly inQuebec. They had shown the papers bearing their names at the gate bywhich they had entered, and doubtless the news of their arrival had beenspread at once by the officer in command there. Well, they would proveto the proud chevaliers of Quebec how the Bostonnais could bearthemselves, and Robert's pulses leaped.

  They were served by an attentive and quiet waiter, and the three, eachin his own way, watched everything that was going on. They were awarethat not all would be as friendly as de Galisonniere or FatherDrouillard, but they were fully prepared to meet a challenge of any kindand uphold the honor of their own people. Robert was hoping that deGalisonniere might come, as he had recommended the inn to them. He didnot appear, but the others who did so lingered and young Lennox knewthat it was because of the three, who received many hostile glances,although most were intended for the Onondaga. Robert was aware, too,that if the Iroquois had lost this Stadacona of the Mohawks and had beenravaged by Frontenac, they had taken a terrible revenge upon the Frenchand their chief allies, the Hurons. For generations the Hodenosaunee hadswept the villages along the St. Lawrence with fire and tomahawk,slaying and capturing their hundreds. But to Tayoga it was and alwayswould be the French who had struck first, and the vital fact remainedthat they lived upon land upon which the Iroquois themselves had onceli
ved, no man knew how long.

  Robert saw that the looks were growing more menacing, although the goodMonsieur Berryer glided among his guests, and counseled caution.

  "Take no notice," said Willet in a low tone. "The French are polite,and although they may not like us they will not molest us."

  Robert followed his advice. Apparently he had no thought except for hisfood, which was delicate, but his ears did not miss any sound that couldreach them. He understood French well, and he caught several whispersthat made the red come to his cheeks. Doubtless they thought he couldnot speak their language or they would have been more careful.

  Half way through the dinner and the door was thrown open, admitting agorgeous figure and a great gust of words. It was a young man in abrilliant uniform, his hair long, perfumed, powdered and curled, and hisface flushed. Robert recognized him at once as that same Count Jean deMezy who had passed them in the flying carriage. Behind came twoofficers of about the same age, but of lower rank, seeking his favor andgiving him adulation.

  His roving eye traveled around the room, and, resting upon the threeguests, became inflamed.

  "Ah, Nemours, and you, Le Moyne," he said, "look there and behold thetwo Bostonnais and the Iroquois of whom we have heard, sitting here inour own Inn of the Eagle!"

  "But there is no war, not as yet," said Nemours, although he spoke in anobsequious tone.

  "But it will come," said de Mezy loudly, "and then, gentlemen, thislordly Quebec of ours, which has known many English captives, will holdmultitudes of them."

  There were cries of "Silence!" "Not so loud!"

  "Don't insult guests!" but de Mezy merely laughed and said: "They don'tunderstand! The slow-witted English never know any tongue but theirown."

  The red flush in Robert's face deepened and he moved angrily.

  "Quiet, boy! Quiet!" whispered the hunter. "He wants a quarrel, and heis surrounded by his friends, while we're strangers in a strange landand a hostile city. Take a trifle of the light white wine that MonsieurBerryer is pouring for you. It won't hurt you."

  Robert steadied himself and sipped a little. De Mezy and his satellites,Nemours and Le Moyne, sat down noisily at a table and ordered claret. DeMezy gave the cue. They talked of the Bostonnais, not only of the twoBostonnais who were present, but of the Bostonnais in all the Englishcolonies, applying the word to them whether they came from Massachusettsor New York or Virginia. Robert felt his pulses leaping and the hunterwhispered his warning once more.

  De Mezy evidently was sincere in his belief that the three understood noFrench, as he continued to talk freely about the English colonies, theprospect of war, and the superiority of French troops to British orAmerican. Meanwhile he and his two satellites drank freely of the claretand their faces grew more flushed. Robert could stand it no longer.

  "Tayoga," he said clearly and in perfect French, "it seems that inQuebec there are people of loose speech, even as there are in Albany andNew York."

  "Our sachems tell us that such is the way of man," said the Onondaga,also in pure French. "Vain boasters dwell too in our own villages. Forreasons that I do not know, Manitou has put the foolish as well as thewise into the world."

  "To travel, Tayoga, is to find wisdom. We learn what other people know,and we learn to value also the good that we have at home."

  "It is so, my friend Lennox. It is only when we go into strangecountries and listen to the tongues of the idle and the foolish that welearn the full worth of our own."

  "It is not wise, Tayoga, to give a full rein to a loose tongue in apublic place."

  "Our mothers teach us so, Lennox, as soon as we leave our birch barkcradles."

  Willet had raised his hand in warning, but he saw that it was too late.The young blood in the veins of both Tayoga and Robert was hot, and theIroquois was stirred not less deeply than the white man.

  "The sachems tell us," he said, "that sometimes a man speaks foolishwords because he is born foolish, again he says them at times becausehis temper or drink makes him foolish, or he may say them because it ishis wish to be foolish and he has cultivated foolish ways all his life.This last class is the worst of all, Lennox, my friend, but there is acertain number of them in all lands, as one finds when one travels."

  The Onondaga spoke with great clearness and precision in his measuredschool French and a moment of dead silence followed. Then Robert said:

  "It is true, Tayoga. The chiefs of the Hodenosaunee are great and wisemen. They have lived and seen much, and seeing they have remembered.They know that speech was given to man in order that he might convey histhoughts to another, and not that he might make a fool of himself."

  An angry exclamation came from the table at which de Mezy sat, and hissatellites, Nemours and Le Moyne, swept the three with looks meant to becontemptuous. Monsieur Berryer raised deprecating hands and was about tospeak, but, probably seeing that both hands and words would be of noavail, moved quietly to one side. He did not like to have quarrels inhis excellent Inn of the Eagle, but they were no new thing there, forthe gilded youth of Quebec was hot and intemperate.

  "But when a man is foolish in our village," resumed Tayoga, "and thewords issue from his mouth in a stream like the cackling of a jay bird,the chiefs do not send warriors to punish him, but give him into thehands of the old women, who bind him and beat him with sticks until theycan beat sense back into him."

  "A good way, Tayoga, a most excellent way," said Robert. "People whohave reached the years of maturity pay no attention to the vaporings andmadness of the foolish."

  He did not look around, but he heard a gusty exclamation, the scrape ofa chair on the floor, and a hasty step. Then he felt a hot breath, and,although he did not look up, he knew that de Mezy, flushed with drinkand anger, was standing over him. The temperament that nature had givento him, the full strength of which he was only discovering, asserteditself. He too felt wrath inside, but he retained all the presence ofmind for which he afterward became famous.

  "Shall we go out and see more of the city, Tayoga?" he asked.

  "Not until I have had a word with you, young sprig of a Bostonnais,"said de Mezy, his florid face now almost a flaming red.

  "Your pardon, sir," said Robert, with his uncommon fluency of speech, "Ihave not the advantage of your acquaintance, which, no doubt, is myloss, as I admit that there are many good and brave men whom I do notknow."

  "I am Jean de Mezy, a count of France, a captain in the army of KingLouis, and one of the most valued friends of our able Intendant,Francois Bigot."

  "I have heard of France, of course, I have heard, equally of course, ofHis Majesty, King Louis, I have even heard of the Intendant, FrancoisBigot, but, and sorry I am to say it, I have never heard of the CountJean de Mezy."

  A low laugh came from a distant corner of the room, and the red of deMezy's face turned to purple. His hand dropped to the hilt of his sword,but Le Moyne whispered to him and he became more collected.

  "In Quebec," he said, throwing back his shoulders and raising his chin,"an officer of His Majesty, King Louis, does not accept an insult. Wepreserve our honor with the edge of our swords, and for that reason Iintend to let a good quantity of the hot blood out of you with mine.There is a good place near the St. Louis gate, and the hour may be asearly as you wish."

  "He is but a boy," interposed Willet.

  "But I know the sword," said Robert, who had made up his mind, and whowas measuring his antagonist. "I will meet you tomorrow morning justafter sunrise with the small sword, and my seconds will confer withyours tonight."

  He stood up that they might see his size. Although only a boy in years,he was as large and strong as de Mezy, and his eyes were clearer and hismuscles much firmer. A hum of approval came from the spectators, who nownumbered more than a score, but the approval was given for differentreasons. Some, and they belonged to the _honnetes gens_, were glad tosee de Mezy rebuked and hoped that he would be punished; others, thefollowing of Bigot, Cadet, Pean and their corrupt crowd, were eager tosee the Bosto
nnais suffer for his insolence to one of their number. Butmost of them, both the French of old France and the French of Canada,chivalric of heart, were resolved to see fair play.

  Monsieur Berryer shrugged his shoulders, but made no protest. The affairto his mind managed itself very well. There had been none of theviolence that he had apprehended. The quarrel evidently was one ofgentlemen, carried out in due fashion, and the shedding of blood wouldoccur in the proper place and not in his inn. And yet it would be anadvertisement. Men would come to point out where de Mezy had sat, andwhere the young Bostonnais had sat, and to recount the words that eachhad said. And then the red wine and the white wine would flow freely.Oh, yes, the affair was managing itself very well indeed, and thethrifty Monsieur Berryer rubbed his hands together with satisfaction.

  "We have beds here at the Inn of the Eagle," said Robert coolly--he wasgrowing more and more the master of speech; "you can send your secondsthis evening to see mine, and they will arrange everything, although Itell you now that I choose small swords. I hope my choice suits you."

  "It is what I would have selected myself," said de Mezy, giving hisantagonist a stare of curiosity. Such coolness, such effrontery, as hewould have called it, was not customary in one so young, and in anAmerican too, because Americans did not give much attention to the studyof the sword. New thoughts raced through his head. Could it be possiblethat here, where one least expected it, was some marvelous swordsman, aphenomenon? Did that account for his indifference? A slight shudderpassed over the frame of Jean de Mezy, who loved his dissolute life. Butsuch thoughts vanished quickly. It could not be possible. The confidenceof the young Bostonnais came from ignorance.

  Robert had seen de Mezy's face fall, and he was confirmed in the coursethat he had chosen already.

  "_Gusgaesata_," he said to Tayoga in Iroquois.

  "Ah, the deer buttons!" the Onondaga said in English, then repeating itin French.

  "You will pardon us," said Robert carelessly to de Mezy, "but Tayoga,who by the way is of the most ancient blood of the Onondagas, and Ioften play a game of ours after dinner."

  His manner was that of dismissal, and the red in de Mezy's cheeks againturned to purple. Worst of all, the little dart of terror stabbed oncemore at his heart. The youth might really be the dreaded marvel with thesword. Such coolness in one so young at such a time could come only fromabnormal causes. Although he felt himself dismissed he refused to goaway and his satellites remained with him. They would see what the twoyouths meant to do.

  Tayoga took from a pocket in his deerskin tunic eight buttons aboutthree quarters of an inch in diameter and made of polished and shiningelk's horn, except one side which had been burned to a darker color.From another pocket he drew a handful of beans and laid them in oneheap. Then he shook the buttons in the palm of his hand, and put themdown in the center of the table. Six white sides were turned up andtaking two beans from the common heap he started a pile of his own. Hethrew again and obtained seven whites. Then he took four beans. A thirdthrow and all coming up white twenty beans were subtracted from the heapand added to his own pile. But on the next throw only five of the whitesappeared, and as at least six of the buttons had to be matched in orderto continue his right of throwing he resigned his place to Robert, whothrew with varying fortune until he lost in his turn to Tayoga.

  "A crude Indian game," said de Mezy in a sneering tone, and the twosatellites, Nemours and Le Moyne, laughed once more. Robert and Tayogadid not pay the slightest attention to them, concentrating their wholeattention upon the sport, but Willet said quietly:

  "I've seen wise chiefs play it for hours, and the great men of theHodenosaunee would be great men anywhere."

  Angry words gathered on the lips of de Mezy, but they were not spoken.He saw that he was at a disadvantage, and that he would lose prestige ifhe kept himself in a position to be snubbed before his own people by twostrange youths. At length he said: "Farewell until morning," and stalkedout, followed by his satellites. Others soon followed but Robert andTayoga went on with their game of the deer buttons. They were notinterrupted until Monsieur Berryer bowed before them and asked if theywould have any more refreshment.

  "No, thank you," said Robert, and then he added, as if by afterthought,although he did not take his eyes from the buttons: "What sort of a manat sword play is this de Mezy?"

  "Very good! Very good, sir," replied the innkeeper, "that is if his eyesand head are clear."

  "Then if he is in good condition it looks as if I ought to be careful."

  "Careful, sir! Careful! One ought always to be careful in a duel!"

  "In a way I suppose so. Monsieur Berryer. But I fancy it depends a gooddeal upon one's opponent. There are some who are not worth muchtrouble."

  Monsieur Berryer's eyes stood out. Robert had spoken with calculatedeffect. He knew that his words uttered now would soon reach the ears ofJean de Mezy, and it was worth while to be considered a miraculousswordsman. He had read the count's mind when he stood at his elbow,shuddering a little at the thought that a prodigy with the blade mightbe sitting there, and he was resolved to make the thought return oncemore and stay.

  "And, sir, you distinguish between swordsmen, and find it necessary tomake preparation only for the very best? And you so young too!" said thewondering innkeeper.

  "Youth in such times as ours does not mean inexperience, MonsieurBerryer," said Willet.

  "It is true, alas!" said the innkeeper, soberly. "The world grows old,and there are seas of trouble. I wish no annoyance to any guests ofmine. I know the courtesy due to visitors in our Quebec, and I wouldhave stopped the quarrel had I been able, but the Count Jean de Mezy isa powerful man, the friend and associate of the Intendant, MonsieurBigot."

  "I understand, Monsieur Berryer," said Robert, with calculatedlightness; "your courtesy is, in truth, great, but don't troubleyourself on our account. We are fully able to take care of ourselves.Come, Tayoga, we're both tired of the game and so let's to bed."

  Tayoga carefully put away the deer buttons and the beans, and the threerose.