I will take you to Meleese, and that means--" "Good!" cried Howland.
"La, la, M'seur--not so good as you think.

It means that as surely as the dogs carry us there you will never come back.

_Mon Dieu,_ your death is certain!" Howland turned briskly to the stove.
"Hungry, Jean ?" he asked more companionably.

"Let's not quarrel, man.
You've had your fun, and now I'm going to have mine.

Have you had breakfast ?" "I was anticipating that pleasure with you, M'seur," replied Jean with grim humor.
"And then--after I had fed you--you were going to kill me, my dear Jean," laughed Howland, flopping a huge caribou steak on the naked top of the sheet-iron stove.