Joncaire looked him up and down with indescribable contempt.
"There is a bad air in here, Monsieur Englishman," he said. "Even the company of that ass de Lery is preferable to this miserable person. I bid you adieu."
But as he was about to climb the stairs de Lery had ascended, de Veulle called him back.
"One moment! Speaking officially, Monsieur de Joncaire, I desire you to send out belts to all friendly tribes, summoning them to a council-fire which will be held here by the King's command in August."
Joncaire bowed.
"It shall be done," he said.
"Now then"—de Veulle addressed me—"we will consider your case. Are the bonds sufficiently tight?"
I had been bound with strips of rawhide which cut into every muscle. The question was superfluous.
"Pick them up," he said to the Cahnuagas. "We will get back to the canoes."
One of the Keepers objected, seeming to suggest that they rest the night at least; but de Veulle silenced him with a frown.