venge on Raoul. Even if he did not get Victoire
back.

But that was madness, to kill Raoul and be hanged for it.

"What can I do, then?" he asked in a low voice.

Nicole said, "David Cooper still has the papers that prove Pierre
adopted you and left Victoire to you."

For just a moment Auguste felt his burden of fear grow lighter. He would
fight Raoul in a courtroom. No one need die.

But no--he waved the idea away.

"They acquitted me of murder, but a jury of new settlers in Illinois is
not likely to make an Indian the biggest landholder in the county."

Nicole said, "They would, because they would know that if they found for
you and against Raoul, they would be finding for the whole family, not
just you."

Auguste said, "Even if I could get a fair trial, I wouldn't live to hear
the verdict."

"Yes, you would," said Frank. "Fear of the Regulators would stop Raoul
from murdering you."

Auguste felt the ropy net tightening. Three moons ago his life had been
in the hands of twelve white men. Now Frank was asking him to trust
unknown white men again. And again, it seemed, he had no choice.

"Is there nothing else I can do?" The words came out as a cry of pain.

"You said you want to live as whites do," said Frank. "Then you have to
start to think and act like a civilized white man. Seek your remedy in
the law."

More than once, Auguste thought, he'd seen that civilized white men were
as quick to flout the law as to seek a remedy in it. But, resigned, he
slumped in his chair, his hands hanging down between his knees.

"I will follow your advice."

Nicole came over to him and stroked his hair. "We'll be beside you every
moment, Auguste."

The menace of rope or bullet or knife seemed driven off a bit, as
Guichard put another log on the fire and they began to talk about going
to Vandalia, finding a lawyer--perhaps Thomas Ford again--and filing
suit against Raoul. There was still the possibility--the likelihood--of
failure. But at least he might come through alive.

The clock struck two.

A sharp banging on the door startled Auguste. Everyone fell silent,
dreading what might be out there.

Guichard went to the door, opened it a crack, then pulled it wide.

Auguste saw a flash of blond hair under a bonnet and eyes of deepest
blue. The sudden leap of his heart lifted him out of his chair. He
barely heard the little serving table beside him topple over, spilling
his brandy.

He ran to Nancy, holding out