Next his gaze fell upon Brother Jacques, whose
look, burning and intense, aroused a sense of impatience in the
marquis's breast. "Monsieur," he said peevishly, "have not the women
told you that you are too handsome for a priest?"
"If so, Monsieur," imperturbably, "I have not heard." And while a
shade of color grew in his cheeks, Brother Jacques's look was calm and
undisturbed.
"And you are Father Chaumonot?" said the marquis turning to the elder.
His glance discovered a finely modeled head, a high benevolent brow,
eyes mild and intelligent, a face marred neither by greed nor by
cunning; not handsome, rather plain, but wholesome, amiable, and with a
touch of those human qualities which go toward making a man whole.
There was even a suspicion of humor in the fine wrinkles gathered
around the eyes. The marquis pictured this religious pioneer in the
garb of a soldier. "You would be a man but for that robe," he said,
when his scrutiny was brought to an end.
"I pray God that I may be a man for it."
The marquis laughed. He loved a man of quick reply. "What do you call
him?" indicating the Indian, whose dark eyes were constantly roving.
Pages:
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134