get plenty to
eat with our guns and m'sieu's rod--a splendid country for sport--and
those little fishes in tin boxes which m'sieu' loves so well--for sure
we must take plenty of them!

It was impossible to get anything definite out of him in regard to the
outfit of the camp, and I knew it beforehand; but I wanted to keep him
talking while the coffee got in its good work, and I knew that his
courtesy would not let him break away while I was asking questions. By
the time I had poured him the second cup of the black brain-clearer
he was distinctly more steady. His laugh was quieter and his eyes grew
more thoughtful.

"And the bread," said I; "we must carry two or three loaves of good
_habitant_ bread, just for the first week out. I can't do without
that. Do you suppose, by any chance, that Angelique would bake it for
us? Or perhaps those lady friends of yours who have just left
you--eh?"

A look of shame and protest flushed in Pat's face. He dropped his
head, and lifted it again, glancing quickly at me to read a hidden
meaning in the question. Then he turned away and stared across the
square toward the slender spire of the little church at the other end.

"I assure you," he said slowly, "they are not of my friends,
those--those--bah! what do those people know about making bread? I beg
m'sieu' not to speak of those girls there in the same breath with my
Angelique!"

"Good!" I answered. "Pardon me, I will not do it again. I did not
understand. They are bad people, I suppose. But how are you so thick
with them?"

"If they are bad," said he, shrugging his shoulders--"if they are bad!
But why should I judge them? That is God's affair. There are all kinds
of people in His world. I do not like it that m'sieu' has found me
with that kind. But a man must make a little fun sometimes, you
comprehend, and sometimes he makes himself a damn fool, do you see? I
have been with those people last night and to-day--and now I have
promised--I have won the money of Pierre Goujon, and he must have his
revenge--and I have promised that Suzanne Gravel--well, I must keep my
word of honour and go to them for to-night. M'sieu' will excuse me
now?"

He rose from the table, but I sat still.

"Wait a moment," I said; "there is no hurry. Let us have another pot
of coffee and some of those little cakes with melted white sugar on
them, like Angelique used to make." (He started slightly at the name.)
"Come, sit down again. I want you to tell me