The pupils of his eyes dilated as he met Philip's steady gaze.
"It makes one think," he replied uneasily, "of the chasse-galere and the loup-garou, and--and--almost makes one believe.

I am not superstitious, M'sieu--non--non--I am not superstitious," he cried still more uneasily.

"But many strange things are told about Bram and his wolves;--that he has sold his soul to the devil, and can travel through the air, and that he can change himself into the form of a wolf at will.

There are those who have heard him singing the Chanson de Voyageur to the howling of his wolves away up in the sky.

I have seen them, and talked with them, and over on the McLeod I saw a whole tribe making incantation because they had seen Bram and his wolves building themselves a conjuror's house in the heart of a thunder-cloud.