I had no time for social preliminaries, and I
felt sudden distaste for him. I pointed him to the window.
"We are not all men. There are Indian women in plenty. Shall I draw
the shade that you may see? There are many of my countrymen to tell
you that they find them fair."
"But are there no white families in the settlement?" He was leaning
forward, and he ignored the insult of my air.
I shook my head. "None, monsieur. None short of Montreal."
He tapped the floor, and frowned. His look went beyond me, and he was
absorbed. "None short of Montreal. Indeed you live a strange life.
Monsieur, is it far to Montreal?"
I shrugged. "Yes, it is a long journey. Come, monsieur, we waste
time. I wish you good-day."
He glanced up quickly. His was a misleading face, for while his words
were meaningless, and showed him of a small and trifling mind, his look
was yet keen. He saw that I had wearied of him, and he put out his
hand to beg my attention.
"Wait, monsieur!" he cried.
"Monsieur, you waste my time."
"I shall waste no more. I have made up my mind. Listen. I promised
you my story." He had regained all his quiet arrogance. "It is soon
told. I am an Englishman,--or a colonist, if you like the term better.
Pages:
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40