Beverley had not noticed it before, and when he presently got
possession of Alice he asked her to tell him the story of how she
planted it on the fort, although he had heard it to the last
detail from Father Beret just a moment ago. They stood together
under its folds while she naively sketched the scene for him, even
down to her picturesquely disagreeable interview with Long-Hair,
mention of whom led up to the story of the Indian's race with the
stolen dame jeanne of brandy under his arm on that memorable
night, and the subsequent services performed for him by Father
Beret and her, after she and Jean had found him in the mud beyond
the river.
The dancing went on at a furious pace while they stood there. Now
and again a youth came to claim her, but she said she was tired
and begged to rest awhile, smiling so graciously upon each one
that his rebuff thrilled him as if it had been the most flattering
gift of tender partiality, while at the same time he suspected
that it was all for Beverley.
Helm in his most jovial mood was circulating freely among those
who formed the periphery of the dancing-area; he even ventured a
few clumsy capers in a cotillion with Madame Godere for partner.
She danced well; but he, as someone remarked, stumbled all over
himself.
There was but one thing to mar the evening's pleasure: some of the
men drank too much and grew boisterous.
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