Tears rolled down the black woman's face. "My sweet child," she cried. "I don't be meaning to hurt you, no, never." Madame Le Moyne, pale and trembling, leaned against her husband. Yolande was the one who, with Nicolas' help, managed to pry Julienne from the fat slave's arms. "Stop that, Lulie," Yolande ordered. "Let Monsieur Roulleaux carry Julienne to her room." With Lulie wailing after them, Nicolas bore Julienne from the dining room, Yolande leading the way. The guests milled about, shocked and upset and, in the confusion, Ignace Proulx broke loose from his captors and dashed from the house. Guy started after him, then stopped. What use would it be to try to catch Ignace? Nothing would be done with the young man even if he did succeed in taking him prisoner. The words Ignace had shouted at Julienne still rang in Guy’s ears. The young pup thought of him and Nicolas as old men. Old! At thirty three? Nicolas could be no more than thirty four.
