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Updated: June 4, 2025
The third party already mentioned as leaving La Roche Percée was a small detachment under Inspectors Jarvis and Gagnon. With sick and played-out horses, a lot of cattle, and not much general provision, and hardly enough men to keep up the rounds of duty, the lot of this detachment starting out on a march of 850 miles was not very enticing.
They did not add to the picturesqueness of the scene, but each carried a bag which was charged with romance for the natives. The two policemen were almost as young as the boy-priests, but bigger and redder and clean-shaven. Here the eyes of the Gagnon girls lingered longest. The greatest sensation, naturally, was created by the blue hat. It was the last to come ashore.
At last the giant stooped and removed the gag from his captive's mouth. The questioning eyes of Victor Gagnon looked from one to the other and finally rested upon Davia. "Wal?" he said. And Davia turned to Jean. "Loose him!" she said imperiously. And Jean knew that trouble had come for his plans. He shook his head.
Such was the sight that met the eyes of those in the rowboat and the dugout as they came around the bend above. Johnny Gagnon himself came running down to meet them. He was a little man, purely Indian in feature and colouring, but betraying a vivacity which suggested the French ancestor who had provided him with a surname. The surname lasts longer than most white characteristics.
With the curious freakishness of a disordered mind, he was beset by a vision of the dark, ferret face of Victor Gagnon. The trader seemed to be hovering threateningly over his rude couch, and, behind him, less distinct, but always recognizable, was the fair Aim-sa.
A cornet, two fiddles and a flute rendered the music with good time and fair intonation, and as it was lighthearted, even gay in character, melodious and tripping, Ringfield thought it must be of operatic origin, but found later on to his intense surprise that it was a transcription of Mozart's Twelfth Mass, interpreted by Alexis Gagnon, the undertaker, as first violin, his eldest son, second violin, François Xavier Tremblay, one of the beneficiaries, on the cornet, and Adolphe Trudel, a little hunchback, on the flute.
Bela stood near him, and he occasionally leaned forward and patted her arm. She received it with an odd look, at once grateful and apprehensive. The body of the room was filled with the natives, including the Gagnon family, the boatmen, and the servants, all squatting on the floor facing the table of justice.
Drive quick, too, for I wish to see the carpenter, Alexis Gagnon, next door to M. Poussette, where I think a room can be got for Mr. Ringfield. Allons! we have wasted one good half-hour already!" "You blame me of course for that!" said Pauline, still gazing at Ringfield, but talking to the doctor. "Faith, I do," said the latter grimly, and she said no more.
Then Jean's words came slowly. He expressed no emotion, no passion; just the purpose of a strong man who moves relentlessly on to his desired end. Gagnon realized to the full the calamity which had befallen him. "Ye'll wait right here till Davi' gits back. She's goin' to git her ears full o' you, I guess. Say, she was sweet on you mighty sweet. But she's that sensible as it don't worry any.
You an' me are goin' to talk, Victor Gagnon." The trader glanced angrily at the man with the hood. "See here, Jean Leblaude, you allus had a crank in yer head, an' I don't cotton to cranks anyhow." "But you'll cotton to this," replied Jean drily. "Eh?" "It's nigh on to three year since you an' sister Davi' took on together," he went on, ignoring the interruption, and speaking with great feeling.
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