The Factor gave a long whistle. 'How did the old man do it, Dave? It must have been a fairly tough job.'
'Bet your neck upon that. He ran through the Province and over the Territories. He went miles by himself, and told the breeds he'd curse 'em if they jumped with Riel. Times he went horseback; times by canoe; often on foot. I tell you, Alf, he's straight enough, though he is chief R.C.'
'It corks me,' said the Factor.
'He's a Christian, sure. The Government's done nothing good for him. Now he's gone to work and saved them the country. Old Taché and Father Lacombe are names to swear by right now.'
'It knocks me over,' said McAuliffe, 'catches me right between the eyes. Tell you, Dave, I never thought there was any good in Catholics before. Seems queer, too, that fellows who keep little bits of painted images in cupboards to say prayers to, should be so right down white in the heart. I'll have a good word for them after this. But how about Riel?'
'He's fairly cornered. There's only one thing for Louis—a gallows and bit of rope at Regina.'
'The old man won't chip in to get him off?'
'No good; they wouldn't have it. Riel's sworn to fight till he crops. He'd stay by his word.'
Lamont, standing near, had listened to the conversation with intense interest, though he had not joined in it himself The close observer might have noticed a sudden angry gleam in his eyes when the name of the Archbishop had been pronounced, also the nervous twitchings of his hands at the mention of the Indian leader's impending fate. When he perceived Spencer had no further information of definite importance, he walked to the end of the stage, as if provided with sufficient food for reflection. Half-breeds were dumping loaded provision barrels upon the insecure logs, while a couple of Icelanders carried an inanimate figure between them to the grass space beyond.
To this human bundle the Captain now drew the Factor's attention. 'That's a present I'm going to leave you, Alf,' he said.