The three Frenchmen did not notice the youth until the very edge of the creek was reached. Then Jean Bevoir uttered an exclamation in French.
"Settlers, after all," he said, to his companions.
"Where?" asked both, and came forward, one on each side of him.
By this time Dave was confronting the trio boldly, and now Jean Bevoir looked at him more closely.
"Parbleu!" he muttered. "'Tis that Dave Morris, or mayhap I am dreaming!"
"Jean Bevoir!" faltered the youth. "I—I thought you were dead."
"Dead? And how came you to think that?"
"They told us you were shot down at Montreal."
"Ha! I see. And you were glad of it, not so? But I have disappointed you."
The Frenchman paused and then chuckled to himself. "You cannot flee from
Jean Bevoir so easily."
"What do you want here?"