“I can outrun most people,” suggested Barbe; “but Monsieur de Tonty looks very tall and strong.”
“Your intention is to take to the woods as soon as marriage sets you free?”
“My uncle La Salle, I do have such a desire to be free in the woods!”
“Have you, my child? If the wilderness thus draws you, you will sometime embrace it. Cavelier blood is wild juice.”
“And could I take my fortune with me? If it cumbered I would leave it behind with Monsieur de Tonty or my brother.”
“You will need all your fortune for ventures in the wilderness.”
“And the fortunes of all your relatives and of as many as will give you credit besides,” said a priest wearing the Sulpitian dress. He stopped before them and looked sternly at Barbe.
The Abbé Jean Cavelier had not such robust manhood as his brother. In him the Cavelier round lower lip and chin protruded, and the eyebrows hung forward.
La Salle had often felt that he stooped in conciliating Jean, when Jean held the family purse and doled out loans to an explorer always kept needy by great plans.