about us,
they'll very likely serve us as they did the last expedition to Richmond
Gulf."

"Ay, ay," cried one of the others, "you may say that, Francois. Nothin'
but frost and starvation, and nobody to bury us when we're dead."

"Except the Huskies," broke in another, "who would save themselves the
trouble by converting us all into dans!"

"Tush, man! stop your clapper," cried Francois, impatiently; "let us
settle this business. You know that Monsieur Stanley said he would
expect us to be ready with an answer to-night.--What think you, Gaspard?
Shall we go, or shall we mutiny?"

The individual addressed was a fine specimen of an animal, but not by
any means a good specimen of a man. He was of gigantic proportions,
straight and tall as a poplar, and endowed with the strength of a
Hercules. His glittering dark eyes and long black hair, together with
the hue of his skin, bespoke him of half-breed extraction. But his
countenance did not correspond to his fine physical proportions. True,
his features were good, but they wore habitually a scowling, sulky
expression, even when the man was pleased, and there was more of sarcasm
than joviality in the sound when Gaspard condescended to laugh.

"I'll be shot if I go to such a hole for the best bourgeois in the
country," said he in reply to Francois' question.

"You'll be dismissed the service if you don't," remarked Massan with a
smile.

To this Gaspard vouchsafed no reply save a growl that, to say the best
of it, did not sound amiable.

"Well, I think that we're all pretty much of one mind on the point,"
continued Francois; "and yet I feel half ashamed to refuse after all,
especially when I see the good will with which Messieurs Stanley and
Morton agree to go."

"I suppose _you_ expect to be a bourgeois too some day," growled Gaspard
with a sneer.

"Eh, tu gros chien!" cried Francois, as with flashing eyes and clinched
fists he strode up to his ill-tempered comrade.

"Come, come, Francois; don't quarrel for nothing," said Massan,
interposing his broad shoulders and pushing him vigorously back.

At that moment an exclamation from one of the men diverted the attention
of the others.

"Voila! the canoe."

"Ay, it's Monsieur Stanley's canoe. I saw him and Monsieur Morton start
for the swamp this morning."

"I wonder what Dick Prince would have done in this business had he been
here," said Francois to Massan in a low tone, as they stood watching the
approa