"Then send Ramsay and Monsieur La Chesnaye back," put in Ben quickly. "I like not the fort without one head while I'm away."
"Willingly," and M. Radisson's eyes glinted triumph.
"Hold a minute!" cried Ben before sitting down. "The river is rough. Let two of my men take their places in the canoe!"
M. Radisson's breath drew sharp through his teeth. But the trap was sprung, and he yielded gracefully enough to hide design.
"A curse on the blundering cub!" he muttered, drawing apart to give me instructions. "Pardieu—you must profit on this, Ramsay! Keep your eyes open. Spoil a door-lock or two! Plug the cannon if you can! Mix sand with their powder! Shift the sentinels! Get the devils insubordinate——"
"M. Radisson!" shouted Gillam.
"Coming!" says Radisson; and he went off with his teeth gritting sand.
[1] See Radisson's own account.