The stone buildings rose to the size of castles, the great river showed like silver through the darkness and on the far shore a single light burned.
A figure appeared before them.

It was de Galisonniere, his ruddy face anxious.
"I was hoping that we might meet you," said Robert.
"What's this I hear about a quarrel between you and de Mezy and a duel in the morning ?" "You hear the truth." "But de Mezy, though he is no friend of mine, is a swordsman, and has had plenty of experience.

You English, or at least you English in your colonies, know nothing about the sword, except to wear it as a decoration!" Robert laughed.
"I appreciate your anxiety for me," he said.

"It's the feeling of a friend, but don't worry.

A few of us in the English colonies do know the use of the sword, and at the very head of them I should place David Willet, whom you know and who is with us." "But de Mezy is not going to fight Willet, he is going to fight you." "David Willet has been a father to me, more, in truth, than most fathers are to their sons.