“Why, you cursed philosopher-pirate, you couldn’t touch him!” exclaimed Iberville, laughing amusedly. “Devil take you, come and join me! I like you, Monsieur Crawford. You shall have a royal commission under me, and I’ll grant amnesty to your pirates and free transportation to Boston or where they will. Eh?” The offer was sincere and cordial, and Crawford regretfully shook his head. “My dear Iberville, I have sworn to give no more allegiance to kings. I am going into the wilderness to seek freedom--north or west, as may be. The old ways of life are as an empty sheath, from which I have drawn the sword; and I go forward with the naked blade. I serve myself, I acknowledge no master, I seek no man’s gold--but there! You’ll be calling me a madman again.” “A madman? No.” Iberville swept him with a keen glance, as they stood under the starlight. “My faith, man! Sometimes I myself am tempted--but never mind. _Vive le roi!_ You’ve tasted freedom and I can’t blame you, though I’m sorry you’ll not accept my offer.” Iberville paused an instant. “Did you ever hear of the Star Woman?” he asked abruptly. “No.” Crawford was astonished by the question. “Who is she?” “A fit subject for your investigations--beyond the horizon.” A short laugh came from the other man, yet there was a lingering regret in his tone. “Perrot once told me about her; you know of Sieur Perrot the explorer, of course. A queen among the far western Indians, a great enchantress, a female _jongleur_. One of the Cree chiefs let slip something about her two years ago, when I was at the bay. Well, well, there is no time to talk of dreams! Come--what’s your exact proposal to me, monsieur?” Crawford dismissed the name of the Star Woman, though it had struck his fancy. Some Indian legend, beyond question. “My terms are fairly obvious,” he returned coolly. “I’m as good a man as you with the knife or tomahawk, so you’d not down me and get away with ease. Bienville is surrounded, yonder, and the Abnaki is bound. Now, you’ll not favour me to save your own skin, but you’ll do it to save the two over there. The bark is not worth so much to Canada as are those two lives.” “At a call from me,” said Iberville reflectively, “my Canadians would put you all to the stake.” “Undoubtedly, but you would be in no position to enjoy the spectacle, I assure you!” “True. Yet I am rather warm in the notion of taking that bark and her cargo into Placentia.” “And, my dear Iberville, I am most devilish warm in the necessity of having her myself. Egad, man! Do you want me to go down to Carbonear Island and head these English against you? They have no officers, no leaders, and are helpless, but if I undertake to lead them, I’ll guarantee to cut you off from Placentia----” Iberville broke into a laugh and clapped him on the shoulder. “Monsieur Crawford, Satan take me if you’re not a man after my own heart! You shall have the bark. My word upon it. Call your men and I’ll give you boats to get aboard.”