She was extremely gentle about it; but I marvelled somewhat at the trembling of her white fingers and the pallor of her face, for it was not a bad wound, De Noyan hesitating not to make light of it, although he acknowledged it was a strong wrist which drove the tuck in.

Anyway, what with the reaction and the loss of blood, I lay back quite spent, telling over briefly those incidents that had occurred to me while they slept.
"And now," I said, addressing the Puritan, who was seated at the bow-oar, where I could see nothing of him except the bobbing of his red crop, "how do you know this stream makes a circuit and approaches the mouth of the Ohio?
It beareth a little to the west of north here." "It was the Spanish captain camping here as I passed down," he answered, speaking abominably through his nose.

"They called him Castellane, a little fellow, with pop-eyes, who pretended to light his pipe from my hair.

He pointed it out upon a map some black-frocked papist had drawn.

It was plain enough to the eye, but 'tis likely they lied, for they were all spawns of Satan." "True or false," I commented coolly, "we seem likely to find out.