two king's officers. As he did so, Bucklaw eyed the room doors, windows,
fireplaces, with a grim, stealthy smile trailing across his face. Then
suddenly the good creature was his old good self again--the comfortable
shrewdness, the buoyant devil-may-care, the hook stroking the chin
pensively. And the king's officers came in, and soon all four were busy
with the map.




CHAPTER IV

THE UPLIFTING OF THE SWORDS

Iberville and Gering sat on with the tobacco and the wine. The older men
had joined the ladies, the governor having politely asked them to do so
when they chose. The other occupant of the room was Morris, who still
stood stolidly behind his master's chair.

For a time he heard the talk of the two young men as in a kind of dream.
Their words were not loud, their manner was amicable enough, if the
sharing of a bottle were anything to the point. But they were sitting
almost the full length of the table from him, and to quarrel courteously
and with an air hath ever been a quality in men of gentle blood.

If Morris's eyesight had been better, he would have seen that Gering
handled his wine nervously, and had put down his long Dutch pipe. He
would also have seen that Iberville was smoking with deliberation, and
drinking with a kind of mannered coolness. Gering's face was flushed,
his fine nostrils were swelling viciously, his teeth showed white against