The morning star yet shone and the river valley was drenched with half frosty dew, and filled with silver mist when the Abbé Cavelier and his party descended to their canoes and set off up the river. They had made their farewells the night before, but Tonty and Greysolon du Lhut appeared, Tonty accompanying them down the descent. He came up with a bound before the boat was off, thundered at Bellefontaine’s door, and pulled that sleepy officer into the open air, calling at his ear,—
“What fellow is this in the Abbé’s party who kept out of my sight until he carried his load but now to the canoe?”
“You must mean Teissier, Monsieur de Tonty. He has lain ailing in the storehouse.”
“Look,—yonder he goes.”
Tonty made Bellefontaine lean over the eastern earthwork, but even the boat was blurred upon the river.
“That was Jolycœur,” declared Tonty, “whom Monsieur de la Salle promised me he would never take into his service again. That fellow tried to poison Monsieur de la Salle at Fort Frontenac.”
“Monsieur de Tonty,” remonstrated the subordinate, “I know him well. He was here a month. He told me he was enlisted at St. Domingo, while Monsieur de la Salle lay in a fever, to replace men who deserted. He is a pilot and his name is Teissier.”
“Whatever his real name may be we had him here on the Rock before you came, and he was called Jolycœur.”
“At any rate,” said Du Lhut, “his being of Abbé Cavelier’s company argues that he hath done La Salle no late harm.”