"I am the Chevalier de la--" he began.
"If you were King Louis himself, and every man there in your
boat a peer of his realm, you should row a British subject now,"
said I; "or, if you choose, you shall have fighting instead."
I meant there should be nothing uncertain in my words.
"I surrender," said he; "and if you are bent on shaming me, let
us have it over soon."
"You shall have better treatment than I had in Quebec," answered I.
A moment afterwards, his men were duly surrendered, disarmed,
and guarded, and the Chevalier breakfasted with me, now and again
asking me news of Quebec. He was much amazed to hear that Bigot
had been shot, and distressed that I could not say whether fatally
or not.
I fixed on a new plan. We would now proceed by day as well as by
night, for the shallop could not leave the river, and, besides,
I did not care to trust my prisoners on shore. I threw from the
shallop into the stream enough wheat to lighten her, and now, well
stored and trimmed, we pushed away upon our course, the Chevalier
and his men rowing, while my men rested and tended the sail, which
was now set. I was much loath to cut our good canoe adrift, but she
stopped the shallop's way, and she was left behind.
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