[[2]] The French Governor General of Canada, regardless of identity.
"How is that?" asked the governor with interest.
Colden and I leaned forward. Corlaer stood by the table in precisely the same position he had assumed when he gave the letter to the Indian. He had not moved a muscle. In his face only his little eyes, behind their ramparts of flesh, stirred with the animation of life.
"On the frontier 'tis said that Joncaire, the Frenchman who governs the trading-post by the Falls of Jagara,[[3]] is about to begin the building of a stone fort."
[[3]] Niagara.
"A fort!" protested the governor. "Sure, 'tis impossible! 'Twould be a direct violation of the Peace of Utrecht."
"Why, we are still in negotiation with Paris over Joncaire's defiance of the treaty in establishing a trading-post upon ground allotted to us," cried Colden.
"Idt is true," spoke up Corlaer.
His voice was high and squeaky, and sounded ridiculous coming from such a giant.
"Hath the building begun?" demanded the governor.