"And what might you want, stealing up like a thief in the night?" roared the man.
"To offer my services, Captain Gillam," retorted Radisson with a hand to his sword-hilt and both feet planted firm on the deck.
"Services?" bawled Gillam.
"Services for your crew, captain," interrupted Radisson softly.
"Hm!" retorted Captain Gillam, pulling fiercely at his grizzled beard. "Then you might send a dozen brace o' partridges, some oil, and candles."
With that they fell to talking in lower tones; and M. Radisson came away with quiet, unspoken mirth in his eyes, leaving Captain Gillam in better mood.
"Curse me if he doesn't make those partridges an excuse to go back soon," exclaimed La Chesnaye. "The ship would be of some value; but why take the men prisoners? Much better shoot them down as they would us, an they had the chance!"
"La Chesnaye!" uttered a sharp voice. Radisson had heard. "There are two things I don't excuse a fool for—not minding his own business and not holding his tongue."
And though La Chesnaye's money paid for the enterprise, he held his tongue mighty still. Indeed, I think if any tongue had wagged twice in Radisson's hearing he would have torn the offending member out. Doing as we were bid without question, we all filed down to the canoe. Less ice cumbered the upper current, and by the next day we were opposite Ben Gillam's New England fort.
"La Chesnaye and Forêt will shoot partridges," commanded M. de Radisson. Leaving them on the far side of the river, he bade the sailor and me paddle him across to young Gillam's island.