"Even hating?" Iberville's eyes were eager.
"There is such a thing as a noble hate."
"How every inch of you is man!" answered the other, clasping the priest's arms. Then he added: "Abbe, you know what I long to hear. You have been to New York twice; you were there within these three months—"
"And was asked to leave within these three months—banished, as it were."
"I know. You said in your letter that you had news. You were kind to go—"
"Perrot went too."
"My faithful Perrot! I was about to ask of him. I had a birch-bark letter from him, and he said he would come—Ah, here he is!"
He listened. There was a man's voice singing near by. They could even hear the words:
"'O the young seigneur! O the young seigneur!
A hundred bucks in a day he slew;
And the lady gave him a ribbon to wear,
And a shred of gold from her golden hair
O the way of a maid was the way he knew;
O the young seigneur! O the young seigneur!'"
"Shall we speak freely before him?" said the priest. "As freely as you will. Perrot is true. He was with me, too, at the beginning."