Then Pierre Gourdon said, holding Peter off at arm's length, and looking at his eye which was still dark, and his lip which was swollen: "So you are the young man who whipped Aleck Curry for annoying Mona? Why, Aleck is half again as big as you——"
"And I didn't whip him," interrupted Peter. "Not alone. I was tired and empty as a drum. He was licking me when Mona jumped in. She helped a lot."
Laughter filled Pierre's eyes, and then a shadow followed it. The gentleness in his face gave way to a stern resolution.
"Aleck is not a good boy," he said. "I will not have him troubling you, Mona. If he does it again you must tell me."
"She needn't do that," protested Peter quickly. "I'll take care of her. I'm going to lick Aleck Curry today."
Pierre Gourdon looked at the boy, and the sternness left his face. "Peter, you're a man. I love boys like you." He ran his hand over Mona's silken hair, just as Simon McQuarrie had done. "I guess I won't worry over you and Aleck any more, Ange. I think Peter is going to do what he says."
"I won't have him fight Aleck," declared Mona. "If he does, I'll fight, too!"
When they had left Pierre and were going toward the Gourdon cabin, Peter asked, "What did he mean when he called you Ange?"
"It's a name he gave me the day he brought me out of the water when my mother and father were drowned," explained Mona softly. "It means something much nicer than I am."
"I don't believe it," said Peter. "What does it mean?"