“Not I to lead—that involves me.” Iberville’s face darkened. “I wish more freedom, but still to lead in fact.”
“But who will lead? And who will go?”
“De Troyes, perhaps, to lead. To go, my brothers Sainte-Helene and Maricourt, Perrot and a stout company of his men; and then I fear not treble as many English.”
The priest did not seem satisfied. Presently Iberville, with a winning smile, ran an arm over his shoulder and added: “We cannot go without you, Dollier.”
The priest’s face cleared, and a moment afterwards the three comrades shook hands together.
CHAPTER VIII
AS SEEN THROUGH A GLASS, DARKLY
When King Louis and King James called for peace, they could not know that it was as little possible to their two colonies as between rival buccaneers. New France was full of bold spirits who loved conquest for conquest’s sake. Besides, in this case there was a force at work, generally unknown, but as powerful as the convincing influence of an army. Behind the worst and the best acts of Charles II was a woman. Behind the glories and follies of Louis XIV was also a woman. Behind some of the most striking incidents in the history of New France, New England, and New York, was a woman.
We saw her when she was but a child—the centre of singular events. Years had passed. Not one of those events had gone for nothing; each was bearing fruit after its kind.