He in turn scarcely heard the tumult they made, so self-centered
were his burning thoughts and feelings. A great occasion in
Vincennes and he, Gaspard Roussillon, not recognized as one of the
large factors in it! Ah, no, never! And he strode along the wall
of the stockade, turning the corners and heavily shambling over
the inequalities till he reached the postern. It was not fastened,
some one having passed through just before him.
"Ziff!" he ejaculated, stepping into the area and shaking himself
after the manner of a dusty mastiff. "C'est moi! Gaspard
Roussillon!" His massive under jaw was set like that of a vise,
yet it quivered with rage, a rage which was more fiery
condensation of self-approval than anger.
Outside the shouting, singing and huzzahs gathered strength and
volume, until the sound became a hoarse roar. Clark was uneasy; he
had overheard much of a threatening character during the siege.
The creoles were, he knew, justly exasperated, and even his own
men had been showing a spirit which might easily be fanned into a
dangerous flame of vengeance. He was very anxious to have the
formalities of taking possession of the fort over with, so that he
could the better control his forces. Sending for Beverley he
assigned him to the duty of hauling down the British flag and
running up that of Virginia.
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