Iberville was now well settled back upon his native courage. He swallowed the rebuke with grace, and replied with frankness: “Radisson is an outlaw. Once he attempted Count Frontenac’s life. He sold a band of our traders to the Iroquois. He led your Hollanders stealthily to cut off the Indians of the west, who were coming with their year’s furs to our merchants. There is peace between your colony and ours--is it fair to harbour such a wretch in your court-yard? It was said up in Quebec, your excellency, that such men have eaten at your table.” During this speech the governor seemed choleric, but a change passed over him, and he fell to admiring the lad’s boldness. “Upon my soul, monsieur,” he said, “you are council, judge, and jury all in one; but I think I need not weigh the thing with you, for his excellency, from whom you come, has set forth this same charge,”--he tapped the paper,--“and we will not spoil good-fellowship by threshing it now.” He laughed a little ironically. “And I promise you,” he added, “that your Radisson shall neither drink wine nor eat bread with you at my table. And now, come, let us talk awhile together; for, lest any accident befall the packet you shall bear, I wish you to carry in your memory, with great distinctness, the terms of my writing to your governor. I would that it were not to be written, for I hate the quill, and I’ve seen the time I would rather point my sword red than my quill black.” By this the shadows were falling. In the west the sun was slipping down behind the hills, leaving the strong day with a rosy and radiant glamour, that faded away in eloquent tones to the grey, tinsel softness of the zenith. Out in the yard a sumach bush was aflame. Rich tiger-lilies thrust in at the sill, and lazy flies and king bees boomed in and out of the window. Something out of the sunset, out of the glorious freshness and primal majesty of the new land, diffused through the room where those four people stood, and made them silent. Presently the governor drew his chair to the table, and motioned Councillor Drayton and Iberville to be seated. The girl touched his arm. “And where am I to sit?” she asked demurely. Colonel Nicholls pursed his lips and seemed to frown severely on her. “To sit? Why, in your room, mistress. Tut, tut, you are too bold. If I did not know your father was coming soon to bear you off, new orders should be issued. Yes, yes, e’en as I say,” he added, as he saw the laughter in her eyes.