"For myself I am not so sorry this has happened," he declared. "I'll
fight the English any day--and beat them, too. But I like not this
stealthy intriguing by crime, by perverting the poor savages, by
downright cruelty and superstition. This fellow de Veulle, now----"
"He's dead," I interrupted.
"_Ma foi_, you seem to have made a clean sweep of it, Jean! You are
a lad after my own heart. De Veulle, he was a bad one. He cast
discredit on France. I am glad you disposed of him. Let us fight
clean and win clean, I say. Do you tell that to your governor."
"I will," I promised, laughing.
"You haven't a chance, you know," continued Joncaire gravely. "Not a
chance."
"It seems to me you once told me at some length of the importance of
the fur-trade," I suggested.
"_Peste_! Did I? Well, it has its place, lad. But if you have
rooted out that excrescence at La Vierge du Bois we have a tight
little fortalice here at Jagara. 'Twill serve, 'twill serve. And
you English have no imagination. Once in a while you get a good
man--Burnet for example. But you do not trust him, and you
invariably have your Murrays who want another king than his Majesty
who sits in London and will pay any price we ask for promises of help
we never keep.
"Must you be going? Adieu, then! And do not be setting any of your
neat snares for me, Monsieur l'Arlesien."