Me-en-gan glided into the room. Galen Albret at once addressed him in the Ojibway language, gaining control of himself as he went on.
"Listen to me well," he commanded. "You shall make a count of all rifles in this place—at once. Let no one furnish this man with food or arms. You know the story of la Longue Traverse. This man shall take it. So inform my people. I, the Factor, decree it so. Prepare all things at once—understand, at once!"
Ned Trent waited to hear no more, but sauntered from the room whistling gayly a boatman's song. His point was gained.
Outside, the long Northern twilight with its beautiful shadows of crimson was descending from the upper regions of the east. A light wind breathed up-river from the bay. The Free Trader drew his lungs full of the evening air.
"Just the same, I think she will come," said he to himself. "La Longue Traverse, even at once, is a pretty slim chance. But this second string to my bow is better. I believe I'll get the rifle—if she comes!"
Chapter Seven
Virginia ran quickly up the narrow stairs to her own room, where she threw herself on the bed and buried her face in the pillows.
As she had said, she was very much shaken. And, too, she was afraid.