Court: "Your excellency, my name is Pierre le
Moyne of Iberville, son of Charles le Moyne, a seigneur of Canada, of
whom you may have heard." (The governor nodded.) "I was not sent by
Count Frontenac to you. My father was his envoy: to debate with you our
trade in the far West and our dealings with the Iroquois."

"Exactly," said old William Drayton, tapping the table with his
forefinger; "and a very sound move, upon my soul."

"Ay, ay," said the governor, "I know of your father well enough. A good
fighter and an honest gentleman, as they say. But proceed, Monsieur le
Moyne of Iberville."

"I am called Iberville," said the young man simply. Then: "My father and
myself started from Quebec with good Nick Perrot, the coureur du bois--"

"I know him too," the governor interjected--"a scoundrel worth his
weight in gold to your Count Frontenac."

"For whose head Count Frontenac has offered gold in his time," answered
Iberville, with a smile.

"A very pretty wit," said old William Drayton, nodding softly towards
the girl, who was casting bright, quizzical glances at the youth over
the back of the chair.

Iberville went on: "Six days ago we were set upon by a score of your
Indians, and might easily have left our scalps with them; but, as it
chanced, my father was wounded, I came off scot-free, and we had the joy
of ridding your excellency of half a dozen rogues."

The governor lifted his eyebrows and said nothing. The face of the girl
over against the back of the chair had become grave.

"It was in question whether Perrot or I should bear Count Frontenac's
message. Perrot knew the way, I did not; Perrot also knew the Indians."

"But Perrot," said the governor bluffly, "would have been the
letter-carrier; you are a kind of ambassador. Upon my soul, yes, a sort
of ambassador!" he added, enjoying the idea; for, look at it how you
would, Iberville was but a boy.

"That was my father's thought and my own," answered Iberville coolly.
"There was my father to care for till his wound was healed and he could
travel back to Quebec, so we thought it better Perrot should stay with
him. A Le Moyne was to present himself, and a Le Moyne has done so."

The governor was impressed more deeply than he showed. It was a time
of peace, but the young man's journey among Indian braves and English
outlaws, to whom a French scalp was a thing of price, was hard and
hazardous. His reply was cordial, then his fingers came to the seal of
the p