"
"Moral: Be generous in your dealings with Frenchmen and
Frenchwomen and so get the devil on your side."
"I've got the girl a prisoner, and I swear to you that I'll have
her shot this time if--"
"Why not shoot her yourself? You oughtn't to shirk a dirty job
like that and force it upon your men."
Hamilton laughed and elevated his shoulders as if to shake off an
annoying load. Just then a young officer with a white bandage
around his neck entered and saluted. He was a small, soft-haired,
blue-eyed man of reckless bearing, with marks of dissipation
sharply cut into his face. He saluted, smiling self-consciously.
"Well, Barlow," said Hamilton, "the kitten scratched you, did
she?"
"Yes, slightly, and I don't think I've been treated fairly in the
matter, sir."
"How so?"
"I stood the brunt and now Captain Farnsworth gets the prize." He
twisted his mouth in mock expression of maudlin disappointment.
"I'm always cheated out of the sweets. I never get anything for
gallant conduct on the field."
"Poor boy! It is a shame. But I say, Lieutenant, has Roussillon
really escaped, or is he hidden somewhere in town? Have you been
careful?"
"Oh, it's the Indians. They all swear by these Frenchmen. You
can't get any help from them against a fellow like Roussillon. In
fact they aid him; he's among them now.
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