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Updated: June 10, 2025
The woodsman as he passed broke out: "There is the old saying of the woods, 'It is mad for the young wolf to trail the old bear." "That is so," rejoined Iberville, with excellent coolness, "if the wolf holds not the spring of the trap." In the outer room were two soldiers and the Scot. He nodded, passed into the yard, and there he paced up and down.
"A message?" she said abstractedly, and turned a little pale. "A message and a gift from Monsieur Iberville." He drew the letter and the ring from his pocket and held them out, repeating Iberville's message. There was a troubled look in her eyes and she was trembling a little now, but she spoke clearly. "Monsieur," she said, "you will tell Monsieur Iberville that I may not; I am married."
She had been there some months before, but it was only for a few weeks, and then she had met Dollier de Casson and Perrot. That her mind was influenced by memory of Iberville we may guess, but in what fashion who can say? It is not in mortal man to resolve the fancies of a woman, or interpret the shadowy inclinations, the timid revulsions, which move them they cannot tell why, any more than we.
But presently from out of the mists there came, as it were, the echo of their challenge: "Qui vive! Qui vive! in the dawn." The paddles stilled in the water and a thrill ran through the line of voyageurs even Iberville and his friends were touched by it. Then there suddenly emerged from the haze on their left, ahead of them, a long canoe with tall figures in bow and stern, using paddles.
Her captain Jean Berigord had chafed on the bit in the little Hotel Colbert, making himself more feared than liked, till one day he was taken to Iberville by Perrot. A bargain was soon struck. The nature of the expedition was not known in Quebec, for the sailors were not engaged till the eve of starting, and Perrot's men were ready at his bidding without why or wherefore.
He saw Iberville tossed here and there, but with impossible strength and good fortune reach the lad. The two grasped each other and then struck out for the high shore. De Casson seemed to know what would happen. He altered his course, and, making for the shore also at a point below, reached it.
"Iberville!" he said, in a glad voice. "Pierre!" The violin was down on the instant. "My dear abbe!" he cried. And then the two embraced. "How do you like my entrance?" said the young man. "But I had to provide my own music!" He laughed, and ran his hands affectionately down the arms of the priest. "I had been playing the same old chansonette " "With your original variations?"
He looked for a moment, and then as Iberville and De Troyes came near, he gazed at Iberville in wonder, and all at once reached out both hands to him. Iberville took them and shook them heartily. There was something uncanny in the sudden death of the champion, and Iberville's achievement had conquered these savages, who, after all, loved such deeds, though at the hand of an enemy.
"Truly; and for the treasure fair bone of fight between us." There was a pause, in which Gering stood half turned from them, listening. But the Bridgwater Merchant had drifted away in the mist. Presently he turned again to Iberville with a smile defiant and triumphant. Iberville understood, but showed nothing of what he felt, and he asked Sainte-Helene to show Gering to the cabin.
In the solitude of her own room the room above the hallway, from which she had gone to be captured by Bucklaw she had misgivings. If she had been asked whether she loved Iberville, she might have answered no. But he was a possible lover; and every woman weighs the possible lover against the accepted one often, at first, to fluttering apprehensions.
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