CHAPTER IV

HOW MARTEL RAISED THE CLAMEUR BUT FOUND NO RELIEF


George Hamon slept heavily that night while Nature repaired damages. In the
morning he had his head in a bucket of water from the well, when he heard
footsteps coming up the steep way from the shore, and as he shook the drops
out of his swollen eyes he saw that it was Philip Carré come in from his
fishing.

"Hello, George--!" and Carré stopped and stared at his face, and knew at
once that what he had feared had come to pass.--"He's back then?"

"It feels like it."

"Where did you meet?"

"He came in here in the middle of the night. We fought on Longue Pointe."

"Where is he now?"

"I left him in the grass with his wits out."

"She'll have no peace till he's dead and buried," said Carré gloomily.