“Dees place ees Hodson Baie maintenant! Ve le capture four day’ gon’; you aire prisonnier, Jules Verbaux!”
With a bound Jules forced his way clear of the men, but they fell on him, seized his hands, his arms, his ankles, his body, and bore him to the ground, helpless. He knew that it was useless to fight against such odds, and lay still. They brought thongs and bound him securely, then rolled him to the firelight.
“Ah-ha! mon vieux, dis taime you aire no h’at liberté, by gar! Vous autres,” Le Pendu shouted to the crowd that had increased about the fallen man, “her’ ees Jules Verbaux, le beeg mans du Nor’ouest, tie’ han’ an’ pied; ve goin’ have du plaisir avec heem?”
“C’est ça!” “Dat feen!” “Bon!” shouted they; and Le Pendu turned to Jules.
“You goin’ tell to us vat ’appen’ h’at Lac la Pluie?” Verbaux was silent. The fury of unfair means controlled him and he was sullen.
“You no tell? Bien, le feu!” said Le Pendu.
Red-hot brands were drawn from the fire by some of the crowd; with them they closed in on Le Pendu and his prisoner.
“What ye do, min?”
A strong voice sounded above the curses and growls as Hudson Bay Factor Donalds kicked and elbowed his way through the crowd.
They fell back respectfully, and the factor saw the bound form lying near the fire.