“Go away and amuse yourselves at the dance.  Peste, it is scarce an hour ago I threatened to row ashore and break your heads.  Allez vous en, jaloux!”

A scream of delight from Suzanne followed this sally, which was received by Gaspard and Hippolyte with a rattle of sacres, and—­despite our irritation—­the Colonel, Monsieur Gratiot, and myself with a burst of involuntary laughter.

“Parbleu,” said the Colonel, choking, “it is a pity to disturb such a one.  Gratiot, if it was my boat, I’d delay the departure till morning.”

“Indeed, I shall have had no small entertainment as a solace,” said Monsieur Gratiot.  “Listen!”

The tinkle of the guitar was heard again, and Nick’s voice, strong and full and undisturbed:—­

     “S’posin’ I was to go to N’ O’leans an’ take sick an’ die,
     Like a bird into the country my spirit would fly. 
        Go ’way, old man, and leave me alone,
        For I am a stranger and a long way from home.”

There was a murmur of voices in the boat, the sound of a paddle gurgling as it dipped, and the dugout shot out towards the middle of the pond and drifted again.

I shouted once more at the top of my lungs:—­

“Come in here, Nick, instantly!”

There was a moment’s silence.

“By gad, it’s Parson Davy!” I heard Nick exclaim.  “Halloo, Davy, how the deuce did you get there?”

“No thanks to you,” I retorted hotly.  “Come in.”

“Lord,” said he, “is it time to go to New Orleans?”

“One might think New Orleans was across the street,” said Monsieur Gratiot.  “What an attitude of mind!”

The dugout was coming towards us now, propelled by easy strokes, and Nick could be heard the while talking in low tones to Suzanne.  We could only guess at the tenor of his conversation, which ceased entirely as they drew near.  At length the prow slid in among the rushes, was seized vigorously by Gaspard and Hippolyte, and the boat hauled ashore.

“Thank you very much, Messieurs; you are most obliging,” said Nick.  And taking Suzanne by the hand, he helped her gallantly over the gunwale.  “Monsieur,” he added, turning in his most irresistible manner to Monsieur Gratiot, “if I have delayed the departure of your boat, I am exceedingly sorry.  But I appeal to you if I have not the best of excuses.”

And he bowed to Suzanne, who stood beside him coyly, looking down.  As for ’Polyte and Gaspard, they were quite breathless between rage and astonishment.  But Colonel Chouteau began to laugh.

“Diable, Monsieur, you are right,” he cried, “and rather than have missed this entertainment I would pay Gratiot for his cargo.”

“Au revoir, Mademoiselle,” said Nick, “I will return when I am released from bondage.  When this terrible mentor relaxes vigilance, I will escape and make my way back to you through the forests.”

“Oh!” cried Mademoiselle to me, “you will let him come back, Monsieur.”