“I hoped that I was done with fighting,” I replied.
“Ay, you have had more than your share of it. I am sorry for you, Carew. I will hurry on your marriage—I sent for the priest this morning—and then I would advise you to send your wife to Quebec. We shall win in the end, and uphold the supremacy of the company, but not without a struggle, I fear.”
The thought of parting from Flora—of sending her hundreds of miles away from me—made me feel very blue; and the factor’s keen eyes observed this:
“Cheer up,” he said. “We are discussing events that may never occur. Come, what do you say to a little diversion—to a hand at cards?”
“With all my heart,” I assented gladly.
But just then the door slowly opened, and Mr. Christopher Burley slowly entered the room. He was neatly attired in black, and after looking about him he made a low bow.
“I trust I am not intruding,” he said in a dry, precise voice. “I desire to see you particularly, Mr. Macdonald. I have been conversing with some of the older employees of the fort, and I find that through ignorance I overlooked a most important matter during the interview you granted me several days ago.”
“Indeed!” replied Macdonald. “And to what do you refer? Go on; you may speak freely in front of Mr. Carew.”