was not in sight. "That's unusual," he said. Then, looking round:
"Where is our other councillor? Gone?" he laughed. "Faith, I did not
see her go. And now we can swear that where the dear witch is will
Morris, my Scotsman, be found. Well, well! They have their way with us
whether we will or no. But, here, I'll have your Radisson in at once."

He was in act to call when Morris entered. With a little hasty rebuke
he gave his order to the man. "And look you, my good Morris," he added,
"tell Sherlock and Weir to stand ready. I may need the show of
firearms."

Turning to Iberville, he said: "I trust you will rest with us some days,
monsieur. We shall have sports and junketings anon. We are not yet so
grim as our friends in Massachusetts."

"I think I might venture two days with you, sir, if for nothing else,
to see Radisson proclaimed. Count Frontenac would gladly cut months from
his calendar to know you ceased to harbour one who can prove no friend,"
was the reply.

The governor smiled. "You have a rare taste for challenge, monsieur.
To be frank, I will say your gift is more that of the soldier than the
envoy. But upon my soul, if you will permit me, I think no less of you
for that."

Then the door opened, and Morris brought in Radisson. The keen, sinister
eyes of the woodsman travelled from face to face, and then rested
savagely on Iberville. He scented trouble, and traced it to its source.
Iberville drew back to the window and, resting his arm on the high stool
where Jessica had sat, waited the event. Presently the governor came