"By this you mean that the Americans would have Quebec, the only place in all Canada that is not theirs already," said Sieur Sarpy, with considerable energy.
"Just so. Now, it is about this Joseph Bouchette that I have come to see you."
Both Zulma and her father involuntarily started.
Batoche continued:
"Bouchette has committed a great crime. He has been guilty of treason against his countrymen. He must perish. There are hundreds who think like me, but are afraid to strike. I am not afraid to strike. He will suffer by my hand. The only question is the mode of punishment. Murder is repugnant to my feelings. Besides it would not be polite. The man was perhaps sincere in his devotion to Carleton, though I believe that he rather looked to the reward. But if sincere, that ought to be considered in mitigation of his sentence. Furthermore, he is a friend of M. Belmont, and that too shall count in his favor. I had intended to seize him and deliver him as a prisoner of war to the Bastonnais."
Sieur Sarpy made a solemn gesture of deprecation.
"Are you serious, Batoche?" he asked.
"Serious?" said the old man with that wild strange look characteristic of his preternatural moods.
"Bouchette is safe."
"Not from me."