But whatever he may have
felt, the Ojibway, towering half a head above the tallest white man,
save Willet, was grim and lowering. His left arm lay in a fold of his
blanket, and, as he held it stiffly, Robert knew that his wound was yet
far from healed. He and Tayoga were careful to keep away from each
other, the Onondaga because he was a guest and was aware of the white
man's amenities, and the Ojibway because he knew it was not the time and
place for his purpose.
They went in to dinner presently and the table of Francois Bigot was
splendid as became the powerful Intendant of New France, who had plenty
of money, who was lavish with it and who, when it was spent, knew where
to obtain more with ease and in abundance. Forty guests sat down, and
the linen, the silver and the china were worthy of the King's palace at
Versailles. A lady was on Robert's right and Colonel de Courcelles was
on his left. Willet and Tayoga were farther down on his own side of the
table, and he could not see them, unless he leaned forward, which he was
too well mannered to do.
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