Denys found his parcels and the box belonging to the child, and responded to the cordial greetings.
“Here, Noyan,” he called to a man who had just trundled his barrow down and who paused to make an awkward salutation. He had a blue cotton kerchief tied round his head, buckskin trousers, and a sort of blouse coat made of coarse woollen stuff, belted in loosely; but it held a pouch containing tobacco and his knife, and a small hatchet was suspended from it.
“M’sieu Denys! One has not seen you for an age! Were you up to the north? It is a good sight. And have you been making a fortune?”
The wide, smiling mouth showed white, even teeth.
“Not up in the fur regions. I took Canada this time.”
“Then thou hast lots of treasures that will set the dames and the maids crazy with longing. They are gay people in those old towns, and the state they keep is something like a court, I hear. Have you brought home Madame Denys? Is it not high time?”
“Past time,” returning the laugh. “But our good Pierre Laclede is content to remain a bachelor, and why not I?”
“I am afraid thou art hard to suit. Surely we have pretty maids here; and at New Orleans it is said they make a man lose his head if they do but smile on him. A dangerous place that!” and he laughed merrily.
“Are you busy?”
“Yes and no. I am to look after M. Maxent’s boat load, but it will not be in until noon. So, if I can catch a job I am ready.”