"Two stranger canoes are coming up the river. Let us go to meet them,"
said the Black Kettle. "Either they are friends, or they are enemies."
"Let us wait and see what this is," and the vicomte touched the
Chevalier on the arm.
"Curse you all!" cried D'Herouville passionately. "Liar!" He turned
upon Victor. "But for your lying tongue, I should not be here."
"After Monsieur le Chevalier," said the poet, forgetting that he could
not hold a sword.
"Rather say after me, Saumaise;" and the vicomte smiled significantly.
"All of you, together or one at a time!" D'Herouville was mad with
rage.
"One at a time," replied the banterer; "the Chevalier first, and if he
leaves anything worth fighting, I; as for you, my poet, your chances
are nil."
Meanwhile a dozen canoes had been launched. A quarter of an hour
passed anxiously; and then the canoes returned, augmented by two more.
Father Chaumonot hailed. An answering hail came back.
"Father Chaumonot?"
"Who calls me by name?" asked the Jesuit.
"Brother Jacques!"
Brother Jacques! The human mind moves quickly from one thing to
another. For the time being all antagonism was gone; a single thought
bound the four men together again.
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