he spoke, not looking at Iberville. His glance
was upon the batteries in lower town. He had inquired carelessly, for he
did not think the question serious at this distance of time. Getting no
answer, he turned smartly upon Iberville, surprised, and he was struck
by the sudden hardness in the sun-browned face and the flashing eyes.
Years had deepened the power of face and form.

"Your excellency will remember," he answered, in a low, cold tone, "that
I once was counselled to marry the sword."

The governor laid his hand upon Iberville's shoulder. "Pardon me," he
said. "I was not wise or kind. But--I warrant the sword will be your
best wife in the end."

"I have a favour to ask, your excellency."

"You might ask many, my Iberville. If all gentlemen here, clerics and
laymen, asked as few as you, my life would be peaceful. Your services
have been great, one way and another. Ask, and I almost promise now.

"'Tis this. Six months ago you had a prisoner here, captured on the New
England border. After he was exchanged you found that he had sent a plan
of the fortifications to the Government of Massachusetts. He passed in
the name of George Escott. Do you remember?"

"Very well indeed."

"Suppose he were taken prisoner again?"

"I should try him."

"And shoot him, if guilty?"

"Or hang him."

"His name was not Escott. It was Gering--Captain George Gering."

The governor looked hard at Iberville for a moment, and a grim smile
played upon his lips. "H'm! How do you guess that?"

"From Perrot, who knows him well."

"Why did Perrot not tell me?"

"Perrot and Sainte-Helene had been up at Sault Sainte Marie. They did
not arrive until the day he was exchanged, nor did not know till then.
There was no grave reason for speaking, and they said nothing."

"And what imports this?"

"I have no doubt that Mr. Gering is with Sir William Phips below at
Tadousac. If he is taken let him be at my disposal."

The governor pursed his lips, then flashed a deep, inquiring glance at
his companion. "The new mistress turned against the old, Iberville!" he
said. "Gering is her husband, eh? Well, I will trust you: it shall be as
you wish--a matter for us two alone."

At that moment Sainte-Helene and Maricourt appeared and presently,
in the waning light, they all went down towards the convent of the
Ursulines, and made their way round the rock, past the three gates to
the palace of the Intendant, and so on to the St. Charles River.