"Halloo! Halloo!" shouts Radisson, beating his pistol-butt on the door.
A candle and a nightcap emerge from the upper window.
"Who's there?" demands a voice.
"It's Radisson, Mr. Young!"
"Radisson! In the name o' the fiends—where from?"
"Oh, we've just run across the way from Hudson Bay!" says Radisson.
And the good man presently appears at the door with a candle in one hand and a bludgeon in the other.
"In the name o' the fiends, when did you arrive, man?" exclaims Mr. Young, hailing us inside.
"Two minutes ago by the clock," laughs Radisson, looking at the timepiece in the hall. "Two minutes and a half ago," says he, following our host to the library.
"How many beaver-skins?" asks the Englishman, setting down his candle.