He turned to.

Lavilette at last and said, as he fastened his collar: "Yes, you and I are friends, Nic; but I'm a Britisher, and my people have been Britishers since Edward the Third's time; and for this same Quebec two of my great-grand-uncles fought and lost their lives.

If I were sound of wind and limb I'd fight, like them, to keep what they helped to get.

You're in for a rare good beating, and, see, my friend--while I wouldn't do you any harm personally, I'd crawl on my knees from here to the citadel at Quebec to get a pot-shot at your rag-tag-and-bobtail 'patriots.' You can count me a first-class enemy to your 'cause,' though I'm not a first-class fighting man.

And now, Nic, give me a lift with my coat.