Behind them again, with head shaking from one side to the other,
travelled Macavoy; and they all marched away towards the Fort. "Well,"
said Pierre to Wonta, "he is amusing, eh?--so big a coward, eh?"
"No, no," she said, "you are wrong. He is no coward. He is a great
brave. He spoke like a little child, but he said he would fight them
all when--"
"When their turn came," interposed Pierre, with a fine "bead" of humour
in his voice; "well, you see he has much to do." He pointed towards the
Fort, where people were gathering fast. The strange news had gone
abroad, and the settlement, laughing joyously, came to see Macavoy
swagger; they did not think there would be fighting.
Those whom Macavoy had challenged were not so sure. When the giant
reached the open space in front of the Fort, he looked slowly round him.
A great change had come over him. His skin seemed drawn together more
firmly, and running himself up finely to his full height, he looked no
longer the lounging braggart. Pierre measured him with his eye, and
chuckled to himself. Macavoy stripped himself of his coat and waistcoat,
and rolled up his sleeves. His shirt was flying at the chest.
He beckoned to Pierre.
"Are you standin' me frind in this?" he said. "Now and after," said
Pierre.
His voice was very simple. "I never felt as I do since the day the
coast-guardsmin dropped on me in Ireland far away, an' I drew blood an
every wan o' them--fine beautiful b'ys they looked--stretchen' out on the
ground wan by wan.
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