He felt the weight of every word, and he had rather have
told of the scalping of a hundred men than of his last meeting with
Jessica. When he had finished, Iberville said: "She kept the letter, you
say?"
Perrot nodded, and drew the ring from a pouch which he carried. "I have
kept it safe," he said, and held it out. Iberville took it and turned it
over in his hand, with an enigmatical smile. "I will hand it to her
myself," he said, half beneath his breath.
"You do not give her up, monsieur?"
Iberville laughed. Then he leaned forward, and found Perrot's eyes in
the half darkness. "Perrot, she kept the letter, she would have kept the
ring if she could. Listen: Monsieur Gering has held to his word; he has
come to seek me this time. He knows that while I live the woman is not
his, though she bears his name. She married him--Why? It is no matter
--he was there, I was not. There were her father, her friends! I was a
Frenchman, a Catholic--a thousand things! And a woman will yield her
hand while her heart remains in her own keeping. Well, he has come.
Now, one way or another, he must be mine. We have great accounts
to settle, and I want it done between him and me.
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