I smiled at the poor jest as a court conceit.
"Or perhaps, if you tried, you might help me to hold him," says Hortense, never taking her search from my face.
"And defraud the lieutenant," said I.
"Ah!" says Hortense, looking away. "Are you jealous of anything so small?"
I took hold of the bit and quieted the horse. Hortense laughed.
"Were you so mighty proud the other night that you could not come to see a humble ward of the court?" she asked.
"I am only a poor trader now!"
"Ah," says Hortense, questioning my face again, "I had thought you were only a poor trader before! Was that the only reason?"
"To be sure, Hortense, the lieutenant would not have welcomed me—he might have told his fellow to turn me out and made confusion."
And I related M. Radisson's morning encounter with Lieutenant Blood, whereat Mistress Hortense uttered such merry peals of laughter I had thought the chapel-bells were chiming.