was his child. See this: when I stood in the pillory a maid one day
brought the child to the foot of the platform, lifted it up in her arms
and said: 'Your father put that villain there.' That woman was sister to
one of the dogs we'd set adrift. The child stared at me hard, and I
looked at her, though my eyes were a little the worse for wear, so that
she cried out in great fright--the sweet innocent! and then the wench
took her away. When she saw my face to-night--to-day--it sent her wild,
but she did not remember." He rubbed his chin in ecstasy and drummed his
knee. "Ha! I cannot have the father--so I'll have the goodly child, and
great will be the ransom. Great will be the ransom, my Frenchman!" And
once more he tapped Radisson with the tiger.




CHAPTER VI

THE KIDNAPPING

The rejoicing had reached its apogee, and was on the wane. The Puritan
had stretched his austereness to the point of levity; the Dutchman had
comfortably sweated his obedience and content; the Cavalier had paced it
with a pretty air of patronage and an eye for matron and maid; the
Indian, come from his far hunting-grounds, bivouacked in the governor's
presence as the pipe of peace went round.

About twilight the governor and his party had gone home. Deep in
ceremonial as he had been, his mind had run upon Bucklaw and the
Spaniards' country. So, when the dusk was growing into night, the hour
came for his visit to the Nell Gwynn. With his two soldier friends and