Suddenly a look of pain crossed her face.

"Mr. Gering, you--you did not kill him?" she asked. "Oh no,
mademoiselle," said Iberville; "you stopped the game again."

Presently he told her what had happened, and how Gering was rousing the
town. Then he insisted upon getting on his feet, that they might make
their way to the governor's house. Stanchly he struggled on, his weight
upon Perrot, till presently he leaned a hand also on Jessica's shoulder-
she had insisted. On the way, Perrot told how it was he chanced to be
there. A band of coureurs du bois, bound for Quebec, had come upon old
Le Moyne and himself in the woods. Le Moyne had gone on with these men,
while Perrot pushed on to New York, arriving at the very moment of the
kidnapping. He heard the cry and made towards it. He had met Gering,
and the rest they knew.

Certain things did not happen. The governor of New York did not at once
engage in an expedition to the Spaniards' country. A brave pursuit was
made, but Bucklaw went uncaptured. Iberville and Gering did not make a
third attempt to fight; Perrot prevented that. Iberville left, however,
with a knowledge of three things: that he was the first Frenchman from
Quebec who had been, or was likely to be, popular in New York; that
Jessica Leveret had shown a tender gratitude towards him--naive, candid--
which set him dreaming gaily of the future; that Gering and he, in spite
of outward courtesy, were still enemies; for Gering could not forget
that, in the rescue of Jessica, Iberville had done the work while he
merely played the crier.

"We shall meet again, monsieur," said Iberville at last; "at least, I
hope so."