“There was no place to run, Monsieur,” answered Nick.
“Praise be to God for that!” said the miller, heartily; “there is some advantage in living in the wilderness, when everything is said.”
“I shall come back and try, Monsieur,” said Nick.
The miller raised his hands.
“I assure you that he will not, Monsieur,” I put in.
He thanked me profusely, and suddenly an idea seemed to strike him.
“There is the priest,” he cried; “Monsieur le curé retires late. There is the priest, Monsieur.”
There was an awkward silence, broken at length by an exclamation from Gaspard. Colonel Chouteau turned his back, and I saw his shoulders heave. All eyes were on Nick, but the rascal did not seem at all perturbed.
“Monsieur,” he said, bowing, “marriage is a serious thing, and not to be entered into lightly. I thank you from my heart, but I am bound now with Mr. Ritchie on an errand of such importance that I must make a sacrifice of my own interests and affairs to his.”
“If Mr. Temple wishes—” I began, with malicious delight. But Nick took me by the shoulder.