unced that he was getting on in years and
was transferring ownership of the de Marion estate to Pierre, the older
of his sons. This January, consumption had taken poor, frail
Marie-Blanche, still childless. The place of Raoul, fourteen years
younger than Pierre, in the line of inheritance was now a certainty.

Surely Raoul could not be afraid that Pierre would take a Sauk Indian
boy who knew no other life but woodland and make him heir to the de
Marion fortune. The notion was so bizarre that it had never even crossed
Pierre's mind. Papa, sitting in his chair by the fire day after day,
reading, reading, would sometimes entertain the most ridiculous
fantasies.

Pierre observed that Raoul looked equally startled.

Then Pierre saw Raoul's expression change from surprise to dawning
anger. Papa had inadvertently given Raoul a new reason to be angry.

Hoping to pluck out the suspicion before it took root, Pierre quickly
said, "My God, Raoul, I have no intention of changing my will. The boy,
who is called Gray Cloud, is my natural son, that is all. Since I have
no legitimate children, you are my heir. Surely you see that."

Raoul's black mustache drew back from his teeth. "What I don't see,
brother of mine, is why in hell you couldn't get a proper son in almost
ten years of marriage with Marie-Blanche. That squaw use you up?"

Again Pierre felt like striking Raoul. His face grew hot.

Elysee asked, "How old would this--Gray Cloud--be?"

Pierre frowned, subtracting dates. "He was born in 1810. So he would
have just turned fifteen." He turned again to Raoul. Perhaps knowing
what he really did have in mind for Gray Cloud would calm his brother
somewhat.

He said, "Pere Isaac, the Jesuit, visits the British Band regularly. I
make offerings to the Jesuit mission in Kaskaskia, and I've asked him to
teach the boy a little English, some elementary letters and ciphering.
Now I want to see Gray Cloud for myself. See what sort of person he has
become. And I want him to know me. And, if I thought he could benefit
from it, I might help him to be educated. I might send him to that
secondary school in New York where our cousin Emilie's husband is
headmaster."

"Educate him so he can take over here?" Raoul demanded, and Pierre's
heart sank. Perhaps he should not have said anything about educating the
boy. He had momentarily forgotten what a disaster Raoul's year in New
York had been, what with whores, drink, money thrown away at car