, I should have better prepared Auguste._

Raoul's boots sounded on the flagstone floor.

Pierre tugged on Auguste's arm, helping him to his feet. He heard Nicole
whisk away the bucket.

"So, this is the little mongrel?" Raoul's deep voice boomed in the
cavernous log hall.

"Raoul," Pierre said, "this is your nephew, Auguste."

Pierre turned to Auguste and in Sauk said, "This is your uncle, Raoul.
He lives here with me and your grandfather. He speaks with a rough
tongue, but do not fear him."

How could the boy not fear a man like Raoul?

"Auguste, is it? A fine French name for a redskin." Raoul set his fists
on his hips, throwing back his blue jacket to show his gilt-handled
pistol and a huge knife in its scabbard. At the sight of the weapons
Pierre's heart pounded.

Raoul went up to Auguste and stared into his face as Pierre stood
tensely.

Raoul said, "Well, brother, you actually did it. You made yourself a
son."

"I'm glad you admit that," said Pierre.

"Oh, I admit that. He's got de Marion written all over his dirty face.
But don't call him my 'nephew.' I reserve that title for legitimate
kin."

Pierre hoped Auguste's knowledge of English was not enough to let him
understand how he was being insulted. The boy looked from Pierre to
Raoul as they spoke, his large, dark eyes watchful, his face
expressionless.

"Raoul, stop this." It was Nicole, back from getting rid of the bucket.
"I'm Auguste's aunt and you're his uncle, and you might as well get used
to it."

"And you are spoiling our dinner, Raoul," Elysee said. "Either sit and
eat with us like a civilized man or leave us alone."

"Spoiling your dinner?" Raoul gave a bellow of laughter. "Mean to tell
me it doesn't spoil your dinner to see that savage puking in our great
hall? Mean to tell me _he's_ civilized?"

Pierre glanced across the table at his father and Frank Hopkins, who had
both risen to their feet. Elysee's eyes burned with anger. Frank held
his little girl's hand and looked sombrely at Raoul. The two Hopkins
boys stared at their uncle.

_I pray God they don't admire him. Boys have a way of looking up to men
who behave like brutes._

Raoul turned to Nicole, his teeth flashing white under his thick black
mustache. "You really want an Indian nephew? Have you forgot what
Indians did to your sister?"

"No, I'll never forget what happened to Helene," Nicole said. "None of
us will. But Auguste had nothing to do with that."

"You did