Her thick yellow hair had
fallen over her neck and shoulders in a loose wavy mass, out of
which her face beamed with a bewitching effect upon her captive.
Rene, glad enough to have a cessation of his peril, stood laughing
dryly; but the singing down at the river house was swelling louder
and he made another movement to go.
"You surrendered, you remember," cried Alice, renewing the sword-
play; "sit down on the chair there and make yourself comfortable.
You are not going down yonder to-night; you are going to stay here
and talk with me and Mother Roussillon; we are lonesome and you
are good company."
A shot rang out keen and clear; there was a sudden tumult that
broke up the distant singing; and presently more firing at varying
intervals cut the night air from the direction of the river.
Jean, the hunchback, came in to say that there was a row of some
sort; he had seen men running across the common as if in pursuit
of a fugitive; but the moonlight was so dim that he could not be
sure what it all meant.
Rene picked up his cap and bolted out of the house.
CHAPTER III
THE RAPE OF THE DEMIJOHN
The row down at the river house was more noise than fight, so far
as results seemed to indicate. It was all about a small dame
jeanne of fine brandy, which an Indian by the name of Long-Hair
had seized and run off with at the height of the carousal.
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