“I did not come seeking compliments,” Barreau returned curtly. “Why are you here—you and your voyageurs, making free with another man’s house? And what have you done with Simon Montell and his daughter? and the forty-odd men that were here two days ago?”
“One thing at a time,” Le Noir answered imperturbably. “Is it possible that you do not know of the arrangement which was made?”
“It is obvious that there was an arrangement,” Barreau snorted. “What I would know is the manner of its carrying out.”
“To be brief, then,” the other said, speaking very slowly and distinctly, as if he measured out his words, “for a consideration Simon Montell has abandoned the field. While my Company permits no competitor in the trade, according to our charter, yet sometimes it is cheaper to buy than to fight.”
Barreau’s shoulders stiffened. “Your charter is a dead letter,” he declared. “You know it as well as I. That, however, is beside the point. You have made terms with Montell—but you have made none with me.”
“Possession is nine points of the law,” Le Noir returned tranquilly. “Having bought we will now fight, if it be necessary. One does not pay twice for the same goods. Be wise, and seek redress from—well, if the fat man has tricked you, make him pay.”
“Suppose I choose instead to make the Company pay,” Barreau drawled. “What if I come to you with a hundred well-armed red men at my back?”
“Ah, it is of that I wished to speak with you,” the Black Factor crossed his legs and emphasized his remarks with a waggling forefinger. “Of that very thing. I know that you are not easily turned aside, but this time—listen. To-night, here within these stockade walls, there are four redcoat men from MacLeod. They have come seeking”—he paused significantly—“you can guess whom they seek. Now, if, when you leave here, your tracks should point to the Indian camps of the west—why, then the redcoats shall be shown it. And I will send twenty men to help them. But if you take the south trail these four will return empty-handed.”
Barreau sat a minute or two pondering this. “You win,” he said at length. “I am not the man to beat my fists on a stone. Give us flour and tea—and your word as a gentleman that the Police shall not be put on our track—and we quit the Sicannie.”
“You shall have the tea and the flour,” Le Noir agreed. “There are the shelves. Take what you want. I give my word for the Police. I would beg of you to stay to-night, but these government men have sharp ears and eyes. Should they get a hint—I cannot put a blanket over the mouths of my men——” he spread his hands as if to indicate that anything might happen.