"Look! There is the fleur-de-lis of France.

That is why I came.

I have rowed in the galleys, me--me a free man, a man of the woods of New France!" Murmurs of concern passed among the little group.

Castleton rose from his chair and leaned with his hands upon the table, gazing now at the face and now at the bared shoulder of this stranger, who had by chance become a member of their nightly party.
"I have not been in London a fortnight since my escape," said the man with the brand.

"I was none the less once a good servant of Louis in New France, for that I found many a new tribe and many a bale of furs that else had never come to the Mountain for the robbery of the lying officers who claim the robe of Louis.