"Sir," expostulated M. de Radisson, "before they gave up the fort I promised these men they should remain in the bay."
Governor Phipps's sleepy eyes of a sudden waked wide.
"Aye," he taunted, "with Frenchmen holding our fort, a pretty trick you could play us when the fancy took you!"
M. Radisson said not a word. He pulled free a gantlet and strode forward, but the doughty governor hastily scuttled down the ship's ladder and put a boat's length of water between him and Pierre Radisson's challenge.
The gig-boat pulled away. Our ship had raised anchor. Radisson leaned over the deck-rail and laughed.
"Egad, Phipps," he shouted, "a man may not fight cowards, but he can cudgel them! An I have to wait for you on the River Styx, I'll punish you for making me break promise to these good fellows!"
"Promise—and when did promise o' yours hold good, Pierre Radisson?"
The Frenchman turned with a bitter laugh.
"A giant is big enough to be hit—a giant is easy to fight," says he, "but egad, these pigmies crawl all over you and sting to death before they are visible to the naked eye!"
And as the Happy Return wore ship for open sea he stood moodily silent with eyes towards the shore where Governor Phipps's gig-boat had moored before Fort Nelson.