"I shall whip him, St. Pierre—whip him until he avows me his master."
"You do not know the half-breed, m'sieu. Twice I have tried him in friendly combat myself and have been beaten."
"But I shall whip him," repeated Carrigan. "I will wager you anything—anything in the world—even life against life—that I whip him!"
The gloom had faded from the face of St. Pierre Boulain. But in a moment it clouded again.
"My Jeanne has made me promise that I will stop the fight," he said.
"And why—why should she insist in a matter such as this, which properly should be settled among men?" asked David.
Again St. Pierre laughed; with an effort, it seemed, "She is gentle-hearted, m'sieu. She laughed and thought it quite a joke when Bateese humbled me. 'What! My great St. Pierre, with the blood of old France in his veins, beaten by a man who has been named after a vegetable!' she cried. I tell you she was merry over it, m'sieu! She laughed until the tears came into her eyes. But with you it is different. She was white when she entreated me not to let you fight Bateese. Yes, she is afraid you will be badly hurt. And she does not want to see you hurt again. But I tell you that I am not jealous, m'sieu! She does not try to hide things from me. She tells me everything, like a little child. And so—"
"I am going to fight Bateese," said David. He wondered if St. Pierre could hear the thumping of his heart, or if his face gave betrayal of the hot flood it was pumping through his body. "Bateese and I have pledged ourselves. We shall fight, unless you tie one of us hand and foot. And as for a wager—"
"Yes—what have you to wager?" demanded St. Pierre eagerly.
"You know the odds are great," temporized Carrigan.