“One might think New Orleans was across the street,” said Monsieur Gratiot. “What an attitude of mind!”
The dugout was coming towards us now, propelled by easy strokes, and Nick could be heard the while talking in low tones to Suzanne. We could only guess at the tenor of his conversation, which ceased entirely as they drew near. At length the prow slid in among the rushes, was seized vigorously by Gaspard and Hippolyte, and the boat hauled ashore.
“Thank you very much, Messieurs; you are most obliging,” said Nick. And taking Suzanne by the hand, he helped her gallantly over the gunwale. “Monsieur,” he added, turning in his most irresistible manner to Monsieur Gratiot, “if I have delayed the departure of your boat, I am exceedingly sorry. But I appeal to you if I have not the best of excuses.”
And he bowed to Suzanne, who stood beside him coyly, looking down. As for 'Polyte and Gaspard, they were quite breathless between rage and astonishment. But Colonel Chouteau began to laugh.
“Diable, Monsieur, you are right,” he cried, “and rather than have missed this entertainment I would pay Gratiot for his cargo.”
“Au revoir, Mademoiselle,” said Nick, “I will return when I am released from bondage. When this terrible mentor relaxes vigilance, I will escape and make my way back to you through the forests.”
“Oh!” cried Mademoiselle to me, “you will let him come back, Monsieur.”
“Assuredly, Mademoiselle,” I said, “but I have known him longer than you, and I tell you that in a month he will not wish to come back.”
Hippolyte gave a grunt of approval to this plain speech. Suzanne exclaimed, but before Nick could answer footsteps were heard in the path and Lenoir himself, perspiring, panting, exhausted, appeared in the midst of us.
“Suzanne!” he cried, “Suzanne!” And turning to Nick, he added quite simply, “So, Monsieur, you did not run off with her, after all?”