Perrot, short, broad, swarthy, dressed in rude buckskin gaudily ornamented, bandoleer and belt garnished with silver,--a recent gift of some grateful merchant, standing between the powerful black-robed priest and this gallant sailor-soldier, richly dressed in fine skins and furs, with long waving hair, more like a Viking than a man of fashion, and carrying a courtly and yet sportive look, as though he could laugh at the miseries of the sinful world.
Three strange comrades were these, who knew each other so far as one man can know another, yet each knowing from a different stand-point.

Perrot knew certain traits of Iberville of which De Casson was ignorant, and the abbe knew many depths which Perrot never even vaguely plumbed.

And yet all could meet and be free in speech, as though each read the other thoroughly.
"Let us begin," said Iberville.

"I want news of New York." "Let us eat as we talk," urged the abbe.
They all sat and were soon eating and drinking with great relish.
Presently the abbe began: "Of my first journey you know by the letter I sent you: how I found that Mademoiselle Leveret was gone to England with her father.

That was a year after you left, now about three years gone.