"
A look, half-pained, half-amused, crossed Iberville's face.
"And yet heretics--heretics, abbe"
"Marriage is no heresy."
"H'm-they say different at Versailles."
"Since De Montespan went, and De Maintenon rules?"
Iberville laughed. "Well, well, perhaps not."
They sat silent for a time, but presently Iberville rose, went to a
cupboard, drew forth some wine and meat, and put the coffee on the fire.
Then, with a gesture as of remembrance, he went to a box, drew forth
his own violin, and placed it in the priest's hands. It seemed strange
that, in the midst of such great events, the loss or keeping of an
empire, these men should thus devote the few hours granted them for
sleep; but they did according to their natures. The priest took the
instrument and tuned it softly. Iberville blew out the candle. There
was only the light of the fire, with the gleam of the slow-coming dawn.
Once again, even as years before in the little house at Montreal, De
Casson played--now with a martial air. At last he struck the chords of a
song which had been a favourite with the Carignan-Salieres regiment.
Instantly Iberville and Perrot responded, and there rang out from three
strong throats the words:
"There was a king of Normandy,
And he rode forth to war,
Gai faluron falurette!
He had five hundred men-no more!
Gai faluron donde!
"There was a king of Normandy,
Came back from war again;
He brought a maid, O, fair was she!
And twice five hundred men--
Gai faluron falurette!
Gai faluron donde!"
They were still singing when soldiers came by the window in the first
warm light of sunrise.
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