e first
time since his freezing, blurts out a taunting laugh. We had done better
to build on the sheltered side of an island, he informs us.

"Now, the shivers take me!" cries Ben, "but where a deuce are all your
land forces and marines and jack-tars and forty thousand officers?"

He cast a scornful look down our long, low-roofed barracks, counting the
men gathered round the hearth and laughing as he counted. M. Radisson
affected not to hear, telling Jean to hoist the cannon and puncture
embrasures high to the bastion-roofs like Italian towers.

"Monsieur Radisson," impudently mouths Ben, who had taken more rum for
his health than was good for his head, "I asked you to inform me where
your land forces are?"

"Outside the fort constructing a breastwork of snow."

"Good!" sneers Ben. "And the marines?"

"On the ships, where they ought to be."

"Good!" laughs Gillam again. "And the officers?"

"Superintending the raising of the cannon. And I would have you to know,
young man," adds Radisson, "that when a guest asks too many questions, a
host may not answer."

But Ben goes on unheeding.

"Now I'll wager that dog of a runaway slave o' mine, that Jack Battle
who's hiding hereabouts, I'll wager the hangdog slave and pawn my head
you haven't a corporal's guard o' marines and land forces all told!"

M. Radisson never allowed an enemy's taunt to hasten speech or act. He
looked at Ben with a measuring glance which sized that fellow very small
indeed.

"Then I must decline your wager, Ben," says he. "In the first place,
Jack Battle is mine already. In the second, you would lose ten times
over. In the third, you have few enough men already. And in the fourth,
your head isn't worth pawn for a wager; though I may take you, body and
boots, all the same," adds he.

With that he goes off, leaving Ben blowing curses into the fire like a
bellows. The young rake bawled out for more gin, and with head sunk on
his chest began muttering to himself.

"That black-eyed, false-hearted, slippery French eel!" he mumbles,
rapping out an oath. "Now the devil fly off with me, an I don't slit him
like a Dutch herring for a traitor and a knave and a thief and a cheat!
By Judas, if he doesn't turn up with the furs, I'll do to him as I did to
the supercargo last week, and bury him deep in the bastion! Very fine,
him that was to get the furs hiding inland! Him, that didn't add a cent
to what Kirke and Stocking paid; they to su