Tom, evidently, did not appreciate the point, but he nevertheless accepted Jock’s invitation to remain, and stretched himself on the grass before the roaring camp-fire with the others.
“I was about to remark the other evening, when my irreverent friend interrupted me,” began Bob, “that Cartier came back here.”
“Bob, are you going on with that yarn?” demanded Ben.
“No yarn about it. I’m going to help you fellows to see the point for once in your lives.”
“You mean you’re going to try to make a point some one can see,” retorted Ben. “Well, wake me up when you come to the point. Life’s too short to spend it in trying to understand Bob’s stuff. If he ever comes to a point, let me know;” and Ben rolled over upon the grass, and covering his face with his hat, pretended to be sleeping.
“Go on with your Cartier,” said Bert. “I don’t know what we’ve done to deserve all this, but if we’ve got to have it, then the sooner it’s done the better.”
“Cartier,” began Bob, giving the name a peculiar emphasis to expose Bert’s ignorance, “made a great stir when he got back to St. Malo,—that was in September, 1534, as I said,—and the king was tickled most of all. He immediately promised to fit out a new expedition, and a lot of the young nobles and swells wanted to join. Cartier was the rage, you see, and even the children cried for him; and as for the ladies, why, even brass buttons didn’t count along with Jakie’s commission as ‘captain and pilot of the king.’
“About the middle of the next May everything was ready, and Cartier and his men went up to the cathedral together, and special services were held for them, and the bishop gave them his blessing. Having looked after that part of it, Cartier then took his men aboard his squadron and set sail. He had three vessels this time, though I don’t just recall the names of them.”
“La Grande Hermione, La Petite Hermione, and L’Emérillon,” suggested Tom, who had been listening attentively.