"Philippe!" she murmured.
A flame of jealousy made Ralph's cold breast alive again. He had thought he was past all feeling. "What is he saying?" he demanded to know.
Nahnya's eyes were troubled. "I know him," she murmured. "From a long time ago. He is the boy I talk with at the Mission school."
The half-breed continued his impassioned plea, and Nahnya was clearly not unmoved by it. Philippe was a handsome young creature and the fire of his feelings was seemingly an honest fire. Ralph ground his teeth. Kitty, creeping closer, and searching Ralph's face, betrayed a reflection of his jealousy in her own.
Nahnya soon recovered from her surprise. "Speak English," she commanded Philippe coldly.
Ralph's heart was lightened. The half-breed bent an offensive scowl on him, and his lips curved into a sneer. Ralph's returning look was identical. Philippe told his tale with a swagger.
"Joe Mixer hire me at the portage to mak' a trip. I don' know what for. I don' care. I go for fun, 'cause he got plenty w'iskey. Bam-by he say he after Nahnya Crossfox. I lak' to kill him then, but I say not'ing for 'cause I want to know where Nahnya Crossfox is. Seven year I look for her. She is promise to me!"
"Promised!" cried Ralph, turning to Nahnya with stormy brows.
"It was a child's promise," she said coolly. "He soon forget it, and I soon forget it."
Philippe launched into Cree again, protesting energetically. Nahnya interrupted him in the same language. Her eyes flashed; under the lash of her tongue the young man quailed.