Iberville walked up to him. "Radisson," he said in a voice well
controlled, "you have always been an outlaw. In our native country you
were a traitor; in this, you are the traitor still. I am not sorry for
you, for you deserve not mercy. Prove me wrong. Go back to Quebec;
offer to pay with your neck, then--"

"I will have my hour," said the woodsman, and started on.

"It's a pity," said Iberville to himself--"as fine a woodsman as Perrot,
too!"




CHAPTER III

THE FACE AT THE WINDOW

At the governor's table that night certain ladies and gentlemen assembled
to do the envoy honour. There came, too, a young gentleman, son of a
distinguished New Englander, his name George Gering, who was now in New
York for the first time. The truth is, his visit was to Jessica, his old
playmate, the mistress of his boyhood. Her father was in England, her
mother had been dead many years, and Colonel Nicholls and his sister
being kinsfolk, a whole twelvemonth ago she had been left with them. Her
father had thought at first to house her with his old friend Edward
Gering, but he loved the Cavalier-like tone of Colonel Nicholls's
household better than the less inspiriting air which Madam Puritan Gering
suffused about her home. Himself in early youth had felt the austerity