Crawford strode forward and cut the chief loose, and at a few words in Algonquin from Iberville, he stalked off into the darkness. Crawford checked his men with a gesture.
“Come, Bienville,” said the tall Canadian, and swept off his hat. “Monsieur Crawford, I salute you. To our next meeting!”
The two figures disappeared. Sir Phelim stared after them, then lifted wondering eyes to Crawford.
“Hanam-an-diaoul! Is it a wizard ye are, Harry? What’s happened, lad? What’s happened, that ye let those three go——”
“Nothing’s happened, Phelim, except that the Star of Dreams is shining fair for us,” said Crawford.
Yet he sighed a little as he turned to tell the men of the ship that lay awaiting them, and in his heart there was a wish that some day he might again meet that tall Canadian, for he felt strangely drawn to the man.
Perhaps, for all his boasted quest of freedom, that offer of a commission under Iberville had been a sore temptation. And the name of the Star Woman lingered strangely in his memory.
CHAPTER IV
ONE GAINS GOLD, ANOTHER A FRIEND
In the meanwhile, during three days the men left aboard the Irondelle slaved, as Vanderberg put it, like dogs of Holland, yet never was slavery more richly rewarded.
Frontin’s hawk-nose led them aright, but not his calculations, for so toilsome was the road along the shore ice under the cliffs, that in the end Vanderberg rigged shears up above and rove his unrotted mooring-lines together, and so made an easy descent and a quick road over the snow above the cliffs. This let the Irondelle pursue her own fate, and a current threw her ashore when the remaining bower-hawser chafed through and she lay stranded on a shallow.