Silently, eyes cast down, the thirty or so servants and field workers who had been invited to celebrate the coming of Pierre's son filed out of the hall. Pierre thought, _In so many things I have failed today_. "Raoul," Elysee said, "I have not forgiven Helene's killers. But I am not stupid enough to hate all Indians, and neither should you be. Do you think whites have never tortured and killed Indian women?" Raoul bared his teeth again. "If you can't hate the Indians for what they did to your daughter and to me, then you never loved either one of us." Pierre felt a sudden surge of anger. "Raoul, I forbid you to speak that way to our father. You are cruel and unjust." "You owe _me_ justice, Pierre, you and Papa. Where was he when you abandoned me to the Indians? Where were you?" Pierre's legs shook. He could feel the rage radiating from Raoul; it was like standing too close to a red-hot stove. Auguste said, "Father." Pierre turned and looked into the dark young eyes. Auguste spoke in Sauk. "Father, I am the cause of this man's anger." "There is much to explain, son," said Pierre. "Be patient and quiet, and all will be well." Pierre saw fear struggling with resolution in his son's face. A pallor in the fine olive skin showed that Auguste had not yet gotten over being sick. Auguste squared his shoulders and took a step toward Raoul. He raised his right hand in greeting. "I greet uncle," he said solemnly in English. "Keep this mongrel away from me, Pierre," Raoul said. "Frank," said Nicole, "take the children out of here." Frank picked Abigail up and carried her, with Tom and Benjamin trailing. He walked off toward the kitchen, looking back over his shoulder at Nicole. Elysee said, "Remember, Raoul, this is my grandson." "Your grandson!" Raoul spat. Auguste held out his right hand to Raoul. "I sorry you angry. Want be friend." In a moment, Pierre thought, he would have to get between them. But his stomach hurt so badly that he could hardly move. "If you want to be my friend, you mongrel bastard, get as far away from this house and from me as you can," Raoul said. Auguste took another step toward Raoul, still holding out his hand. He'd learned about shaking hands from Frank Hopkins just a little while ago, Pierre remembered. "Auguste, no!" Pierre cried. "Don't you try to touch me, redskin." Raoul thrust out his own hand and struck at Auguste's. He grabbed Auguste's shirt, twisting the buckskin in his big hand. Raoul had lost all control. The fury was upon him. Pierre forgot about his own pain and tried to throw himself between Raoul and Auguste. His chest hit Raoul's arm, hard as an iron bar. "Let go of him, Raoul," Pierre said. "Raoul, stop it!" Elysee shouted. "All right." Raoul punched his fist into Auguste's chest and released him, sending the boy staggering backward to fall to the floor.