The merchant’s voice ascended a pyramid of vexation.
“No, monsieur. Monsieur de Tonty is not here. And the Father Louis Hennepin[7] only rests a few days before the fatigue of descending the rapids to Montreal. It was a grief to him to find his mission and the settlement so decayed after only five years’ absence.”
“Why do you fret me with the decay of the mission and breaking up of the settlement? If I were here as commandant of this fort I might then be blamed for its ruin. Perhaps my associates made a mistake in retaining an officer who had served under La Salle.”
The commandant made no retort, but said,—
“Monsieur, I had almost forgotten to tell you we have another fair demoiselle within our walls to the honor of Fort Frontenac. The Abbé Cavelier with men from Lachine, arrived this morning, his young niece being with him. There are brave women in Montreal.”
“That is right,—that is right!” exclaimed the irritable merchant. “Call all the Cavelier family hither and give up the fortress. I heard the Abbé had ventured ahead of me.”
“Monsieur le Ber, what can they do against the king and the governor? Both king and governor have dispossessed La Salle. I admitted him as any wayfarer. The Abbé Cavelier came with a grievance against his brother. He hath lost money by him the same as others.”
“Thou shalt not be kept longer in the night air,” said Le Ber, with sudden tenderness to his daughter. “There is dampness within these walls to remind us of our drenchings in the rapids.”
“We have fire in both upper and lower rooms of the officers’ quarters,” said the commandant.
They walked toward the long dwelling, their shadows stretching and blending over the ground.