“Ve haf a long bill to settle wif zem boys,” remarked Lacroix, in his broken English.
“It took us some time to strike von blow, when we lay hold upon zis belt; and when we come away to ze country of ze Mississippi we do not expect evaire to set eyes again on zem. But, parbleu! ze fools follow us here; zey even dare build zere hateful Eenglish cabins on zis river zat belongs to ze French alone. Zat is too much for us to stand. For ze lilies of France we must strike a blow zat vill tell zem zey nevaire can remain here.”
“I am of ze same opinion,” declared the other Frenchman, gritting his strong white teeth in a way that renewed all the fears of the captive girl.
Were these men even more savage than the redskins, and would they actually kill her, as she had heard of others being treated by whites who had joined forces with the Indians in the cruel wars that were always in progress?
“It is plain, when we leave here, we cannot be trouble with the girl,” observed Jacques Larue, in French. Then, as he seemed to allow his roving eyes to glance toward the river, just seen through openings in the trees, a grim smile broke over his swarthy face, while he went on speaking: “Ha! I have deescovered a plan that promises well. It will not only get rid of the ma’m’selle in a fine way, but at the same time strike a blow at our old enemy, Armstrong. The boys perhaps may not feel so proud because they once get the better of your dead brother, Armand Lacroix, and Jacques Larue.”
“Tell me your plan, then; and, since we are now in a place of much danger, the quicker we put it into operation the better, it may be,” said Henri.
“Listen,” the other went on, quickly. “Let us bind this girl so she cannot run away. Also we will fasten over her mouth a bandage, and that will prevent any outcry and call for help.”
“Yes, and then?” asked Henri Lacroix.