much to me as this whole mine._

"You really chopped him into mincemeat," Eli said. "I'll have to get me
one of them Arkansas toothpicks."

"Get the other two bodies in here," Raoul said, making an effort to keep
his voice steady. "We'll find some place to bury them."

"Better search the whole mine, make sure there's no more redskins," said
Eli.

Raoul agreed, but he felt certain this one he'd killed was the only one
in the mine. He looked down at the dead face. The Indian wasn't much
more than fifteen or sixteen years old. Good, he thought. Hadn't had
long enough to do much harm.

But why, Raoul wondered, had this young buck thrown his life away
attacking him near the entrance to the mine? He'd have had more of a
chance of escaping if he'd hidden deeper.

Maybe he'd figured there was at least a little light to see and fight by
near the entrance. If he'd gotten Raoul, then somehow managed to get
away, he'd probably have claimed the right to wear a brave's feather.

The thought of himself lying dead in the dark and his scalp hanging on a
pole in front of a lodge down at Saukenuk made Raoul shudder.

But it was Raoul who'd won his feather. No Indian would ever kill Raoul
de Marion.

And any redskin sluts, and any mongrel bastards, that showed their face
around Victoire would have to deal with a man who killed Indians as
easily as he killed any other sort of vermin.

Time to have it out with Pierre.

* * * * *

Pierre wanted to weep as he saw what was about to happen. He rushed
forward and thrust out his hand to stop Raoul.

"Not the vase!" he cried. Maman had loved it so.

Raoul was too close to the mantel for Pierre to reach him in time. He
got to it in two strides and, just as Pierre had expected, seized the
vase that had been in the family for four generations, had stood on the
mantel ever since they built this chateau.

"Raoul!" Papa cried. "Think what you are doing!"

Raoul turned, holding the vase high over his head. He fixed Pierre with
the wide-eyed stare of a madman. His teeth flashed under his black
mustache in a grimace of fury.

He dashed the vase to the flagstone floor. The white egg shape vanished
with a hollow crack, and shards scattered, some hitting Raoul's boots,
others flying into the huge stone hearth.

A sudden silence filled the great hall of Victoire. Pierre felt as if
his heart had broken with the vase.

_You killed Maman_, he wanted to cry out