“And now—” he started to admonish, when she threw her arms about his neck, stiffling the words in her garments.
At the corner of the factory Maren Le Moyne stood looking through the twilight at the scene.
When Francette released him there were only they two and he had heard no step nor seen the silent beholder.
When the little French maid slipped away with the husky she fingered the carved toy of a knife in her sash and tossed her short curls in triumph.
Her failure had taken on a hue of victory.
CHAPTER XI LEAVEN AT WORK
“M'sieu,” said Marc Dupre, coming up the slope from the river, his buckskins much tattered, showing a swift cross-country run, “I have news of the great tribe. Like the forest leaves in fall in point of numbers they are, and they wear a wealth of wampum and elk teeth, so much that they are rich beyond any other tribe. Their young men are tall and heavy of stature and wonderful in the casting of their great carven spears. Also do they excel in the use of the bow. Warlike and suspicious, scouting every inch of country before them, they come down by way of Dear Lake,—and the young Nor'wester at Fort Brisac has already sent forth his messengers to meet them.”
McElroy frowned.
Double anger swelled suddenly within him. In two ways had De Courtenay crossed his plane at opposing angles. It was evidently war that the adventurer wanted, the hot war of the two fur companies coupled to that of man and man for a maid. He stood a while and thought. Then he turned to Dupre.