The Nor'wester chuckled significantly. "It is natural," he answered. "Ferguson has already waited a year in order to lay hands on his bride. For you must know she was under the guard of the Hudson's Bay till she married an English clerk in their service who was bribed to come over to the Nor'west ranks and put in charge of Fort Brondel, which has since been captured by the Company!"
"How came Black Ferguson to seize her, then?" the priest asked, drawing all possible information from the swart fellow.
"There was a feast in Brondel when the York Factory packet arrived. After the dance the English clerk escaped with a spy who was also a prisoner. Expecting that some of our men would be lurking about spying on the fort, they sought and found them and gave them news. The clerk's wife, the lady Ferguson desired, was to go north with the canoe express to York Factory. So our men waylaid it, capturing the packet and the woman. The clerk, poor fool, thought she was being taken for himself."
"And was it not so?" cried Brochet. "They were married, you say! Does this lady lean toward bigamy?"
"They were married, yes," admitted the Nor'wester, with a sinister meaning. "She is now a widow."
All three men started, nearly betraying themselves. "A widow!" they echoed.
"A widow indeed! The English clerk was shot by some of the packeteers."
"Dat wan dam lie!" shouted Basil, unwarily.
"Why? What do you know?" The Nor'wester looked askance at the voyageur's vehemence.
"I see dat in your eye," Dreaulond declared, quick to recover himself. "We all be bon amis. Spik de truth, now!" He winked knowingly at the dark-faced man.