MONTLIVET 
 
 ALICE PRESCOTT SMITH
 
 417
 
 glue flreecott 
 
 MONTLIVET. i 2 mo, $1.50. 
 
 OFF THE HIGHWAY. Crown 8vo, $i. 50. 
 
 THE LEGATEE. Crown 8vo, $1.50. 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK.
 
 MONTLIVET
 
 *ffc 
 
 Sept 
 
 CARTE GENERALE 
 DE CANADA
 
 GRAND E, SPACE, DE, TE,RRE, 
 DE LABRADOR O LT DE-S E.SK1MAUX 
 
 Exptication 
 
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 MONTLIVET 
 
 BY ALICE PRESCOTT SMITH 
 
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 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 Cfje fttoerstoe presg, CambriBge 
 1906 
 
 
 
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 COPYRIGHT 1906 BY ALICE PRKSCOTT SMITH 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Published Septtmbtr /0o& 
 
 SECOND IMPRESSION
 
 TO 
 
 M. C. H. AND A. E. H. 
 
 2138166
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I. THE KEY 1 
 
 II. THE CAPTIVE 13 
 
 III. BEHIND THE COMMANDANT S DOOR . 24 
 IV. IN THE OTTAWA CAMP ... 34 
 
 V. A DECISION 49 
 
 VI. DAME OPPORTUNITY .... 58 
 
 VII. THE BEGINNING 72 
 
 VIII. PARTNERS 91 
 
 IX. WESTWARD 101 
 
 X. I WAKE A SLEEPER . . . .115 
 
 XI. MARY STARLING 121 
 
 XII. A COMPACT 132 
 
 XIII. WE REACH THE ISLANDS . . . 147 
 
 XIV. A PROVISIONAL BARGAIN . . .164 
 XV. I TAKE A NEW PASSENGER . . . 182 
 
 XVI. THE STORM 199 
 
 XVII. AFTER THE STORM 214 
 
 XVIII. IN WHICH I USE OPPORTUNITY . . 226 
 
 XIX. IN THE MIST 248 
 
 XX. WHAT I FOUND 267
 
 viii CONTENTS 
 
 XXI. THE PIVOT 281 
 
 XXII. THE PRICE OF SLEEP . . . .295 
 
 XXIII. I ENCOUNTER MlXED MOTIVES . . 309 
 
 XXIV. I MEET VARIOUS WELCOMES . . 324 
 
 XXV. OVER CADILLAC S TABLE . . .338 
 
 XXVI. FROM HOUR TO HOUR . ... 347 
 
 XXVII. IN COUNCIL 358 
 
 XXVIII. CHILDREN OF OPPORTUNITY . . 367 
 
 XXIX. I FOLLOW MY PATH . . . .379 
 
 XXX. THE MEANING OF CONQUEST . . 388 
 
 XXXI. THE UNDESERVED 411 
 
 XXXII. I TELL THE WOMAN . . . .429 
 
 XXXIII. To US AND TO OUR CHILDREN . 437
 
 MONTLIVET
 
 MONTLIVET 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE KEY 
 
 THE May sun was shining on Michillimackinac, 
 and I, Armand de Montlivet, was walking the 
 strip of beach in front of the French garrison. 
 
 I did not belong to Michillimackinac. I had 
 come in only the day before with two canoes 
 and four men, and I was bound for the beaver 
 lands further west. A halt was necessary, for 
 the trip had been severe, and remembering that 
 it was necessity, and not idleness, that held me, 
 I was enjoying the respite. My heart was light, 
 and since the heart is mistress of the heels, I 
 walked somewhat trippingly. I was on good 
 terms with myself at the moment. My venture 
 was going well, and I was glad to be alone, and 
 breathe deep of the sweet spring air, and let my 
 soul grow big with the consciousness of what it 
 would like to do. So content was I, that I was 
 annoyed to see La Mothe-Cadillac approach. 
 
 Yet Cadillac was important to me then. He 
 was commandant at Michillimackinac, the
 
 2 MONTLIVET 
 
 year was 1695, and so was in control of the 
 strategic point of western New France. The 
 significance of all that he stood for, and all that 
 he might accomplish, filled my thought as he 
 swaggered toward me now, and I said to myself, 
 somewhat complacently, that, with all his air of 
 importance, I had a fuller conception than he of 
 what lay in his palm. 
 
 He hailed me without preface. " Where do you 
 find food for your laughter in this forsaken coun 
 try, Month vet ? I have watched you swagger up 
 and down with a smile on your face for the last 
 hour. What is the jest?" 
 
 In truth, there was no jest in me by the time 
 he finished. My own thought had just called 
 him a swaggerer, and now he clapped the same 
 phrase back at me. 
 
 "There are more swaggerers upon this beach 
 than I," I cried hotly, and I felt my blood rise. 
 
 My tone was more insulting than my words, 
 and Cadillac, too, grew red. I saw the veins 
 upon his neck begin to swell, and all my childish 
 irritation vanished. 
 
 " Come, monsieur," I hastened ; " I was wrong. 
 But I meant no harm, and surely here is a jest 
 fit for your laughter, that two grown men should 
 stand and swell at each other like turkeycocks, 
 all because they are drunk with the air of a May 
 day. Come, here is my hand."
 
 THE KEY 3 
 
 "But you said that I" 
 
 "And what if I did?" I interrupted. I had 
 fallen into step, and was pacing by his side. 
 " What is there in the term that we should hold 
 it in slight esteem ? I swagger. What does that 
 mean, after all, but my acknowledgment of the 
 presence of Dame Opportunity, and my admis 
 sion that I would like to impress her; to draw 
 her eye in my direction. Surely that is laudable, 
 monsieur." 
 
 Cadillac laughed. His tempers were the ruf 
 fle of a passing breeze upon deep water. " So you 
 think that I swagger to meet opportunity ? Well, 
 if I do, I get but little out of it. Sometimes I push 
 myself near enough to pluck at the sleeve of the 
 dame; oftener she passes me by." 
 
 ;< Yet she gave you this key to an empire," I 
 suggested. I had been rude, and I repented it, 
 and more than that, there was something in the 
 man that tempted me to offer him flattery even 
 as I desire to give sweets to an engaging child. 
 
 But this cajolery he swept away with a fling 
 of his heavy arm. "The key to an empire! " he 
 echoed contemptuously. "They are fine words, 
 and the mischief is that they are true. Yet food 
 in my stomach, and money in my pocket, would 
 mean more to me just now. I must speak to this 
 Indian. Will you wait for me, monsieur ? I have 
 business with you."
 
 4 MONTLIVET 
 
 I bowed, and resumed my walk. "The key 
 to an empire!" I said my own words over, and 
 could have blushed for their tone of bombast. 
 They were true, but they sounded false. I looked 
 at my surroundings, and marveled that a situa 
 tion that was of real dignity could wear so mean 
 a garb. The sandy cove where I stood was on the 
 mainland, and sheltered four settlements. Behind 
 lay the forest; in front stretched Lake Huron, 
 a waterway that was our only link with the men 
 and nations we had left behind. The settlements 
 were contiguous in body, but even my twenty- 
 four hours acquaintance had shown me that they 
 were leagues apart in mind. There were a French 
 fort, a Jesuit convent, a village of Ottawas, and, 
 barred by the aristocracy of a palisade, a village 
 of Hurons. The scale of precedence was plain 
 to read. The huts of the savages were wattled, 
 interlaced of poles and bark; the French build 
 ings were of wood, but roofed with rough cedar; 
 the only houses with board roofs were those of 
 the Jesuits. In later times when I found Father 
 Carheil hard to understand, I used to say to my 
 self that he was not to be held too strictly to ac 
 count for his contradictions, for though one learns 
 to think great thoughts in the wilderness, it is 
 not done easily when there is sawed lumber to 
 shut away the sky. 
 
 Cadillac came back to me in a few moments.
 
 THE KEY 5 
 
 He had lost his swelling port, and was frown 
 ing with thought. "I saw you in the Huron 
 camp, Montlivet," he said. "Do you understand 
 their speech ? " 
 
 Now this was a question that I thought it as 
 well to put by. "Would you call it speech?" I 
 demurred. "It sounded more like snarling." 
 Then you do understand it?" 
 
 I kicked at the dogs at my feet. "Frowns are 
 a common language. I could understand them, 
 at least. The camp is restless. Are they hun- 
 
 Cadillac shrugged his shoulders. "Possibly. 
 But it is not hunger that sagamite or maize cakes 
 can reach. Would a taste of Iroquois broth put 
 them in better condition, do you think?" 
 
 I turned away somewhat sickened. "It is a 
 savage remedy," I broke out. "And a good cook 
 will catch his hare before he talks of putting it 
 in the pot. Where is your Iroquois hare, Mon 
 sieur de la Mothe-Cadillac ? " 
 
 The commandant shook his head. "My hare 
 is still at large," he confessed. "Though just 
 now - Come, Monsieur de Montlivet, let us 
 to plain speech. We are talking as slantingly as 
 savages. I have a Huron messenger at my quar 
 ters. Come with me, and interpret." 
 
 "A messenger from your own camp?" 
 
 "Is it my own camp ?" he queried soberly. "I
 
 6 MONTLIVET 
 
 do not know. I have reason to think that many 
 of my Hurons are ripe for English bribes, or 
 even for the Iroquois. It is a strange menagerie 
 that I rule over here, and the Hurons are the 
 foxes, --when they are not trying to be lions. 
 You say that their camp is restless. I do not 
 speak their language, but I can tell you more. 
 They are in two factions. Those who follow old 
 Kondiaronk, the Rat, are fairly loyal, but the fac 
 tion under the Baron would sell us to the Eng 
 lish for the price of a cask of rum. Truly our 
 scalps sit lightly on our heads here in this gar 
 rison." 
 
 I hesitated. I did not like this situation, and 
 prudence whispered that I had best cut the con 
 versation here, and make my way as swiftly as 
 possible to the west. But curiosity urged me to 
 one more question. I asked it with my lips purs 
 ing to a whistle, that I might seem indifferent. 
 "Is the messenger from the Baron?" 
 
 Cadillac nodded contentedly. "So you have 
 decided to help me," he said, with a smile that 
 read my indecision perfectly, and I felt, with a 
 rush of blood to my face, much less sure of my 
 self, and more respect for him. "I wish that I 
 had inducements to keep you here," he went on, 
 "for I hear from Montreal that you have won 
 derful command of Indian dialects. But I will 
 take what you are willing to give, and be thank-
 
 THE KEY 7 
 
 ful. As to this messenger, this is the tale. 
 Some months ago a small band of Hurons left 
 here for the south. Hunting, or war, or diplo 
 macy, how shall I say what was their errand? 
 But I mistrust them, for they are followers of the 
 Baron. They returned this morning, and are in 
 camp on the island. Their sending a messenger 
 in advance looks as if they had a prisoner, and 
 so desired to be welcomed in state. If the pris 
 oner should be an Iroquois" 
 
 Now certain tales were fresh in my ears, and 
 so I did not like the implication of the unfin 
 ished sentence, and hastened to cover it. " It is 
 a favorable sign, monsieur, that the messenger 
 came to you first." 
 
 "How do I know that he came to me first? 
 He came to me yes. But because a snake 
 slips out of one hole, can you swear that he has 
 not been in another ? Will you go to him now ?" 
 
 There was no door open for escape, and the 
 matter was not important enough for me to be 
 willing to force one. "If you wish," I agreed. 
 
 Cadillac looked relieved. "Good! You will 
 find the messenger at my quarters. I shall let you 
 go alone, for I can make nothing of the man s 
 speech, and he smells somewhat rancid for a 
 close acquaintance. When you are through, you 
 will find me here." 
 
 I bowed, and made my way to his quarters.
 
 8 MONTLIVET 
 
 I knew as I opened his door that I might be en 
 tering more than appeared upon the surface, but 
 the excitement of the game was worth the hazard, 
 - even the hazard of a possible delay, and I 
 pushed the door wide, and went in. 
 
 The Huron was sitting in the middle of the 
 floor, handling his calumet with some ostentation. 
 The Hurons were but the remnant of a race, for 
 Iroquois butchery had reduced them in numbers 
 and in spirit, but even in their exile they pre 
 served a splendor of carriage that made the 
 Ottawas, who camped beside them here, seem 
 but a poor and shuffling people. This man was 
 a comely specimen, and he was decked to do 
 honor to the moment. His blanket was clean, 
 and his head freshly shaved except for a bris 
 tling ridge that ran, like a cock s comb, across his 
 crown, and that dripped sunflower oil over his 
 shoulders. 
 
 He handed me his calumet, and we smoked 
 for the time required by ceremony, then he rose, 
 and drew two beaver skins from the folds of his 
 blanket. 
 
 The sun has smiled upon us," he said, with 
 a certain sedate pomposity which, like the black 
 crest on his head, might be ludicrous in itself, 
 but seemed fitting enough in him. " I speak for 
 my people who are in camp upon the island. We 
 have been upon strange rivers, and over moun-
 
 THE KEY 9 
 
 tains where the very name of Frenchman is un 
 known. Yet we have returned, and we come to 
 you at once, as the partridge to her young. We 
 are glad to see a Frenchman s face again. We 
 confirm what we have said by giving these bea 
 vers." 
 
 I smoked for a moment, then leaned over and 
 kicked the skins into the corner. "Why these 
 words ?" I asked, with a slow shrug. "Does the 
 leg thank the arm for its service ? Does the 
 mouth give flatteries and presents to the tongue ? 
 We of Michillimackinac are all of one body. My 
 brother must be drunk with the bad rum of the 
 English traders, that he should come to me in 
 this way. No, if my brother has anything to say, 
 let him think it aloud without ceremony, as if 
 speaking to his own heart. Let him save his 
 beavers till he goes to treat with strangers." 
 
 There was a long silence. The Huron wrapped 
 his blanket closer, and looked at me, while I 
 stared back as unwinkingly. His face was a 
 mask, but I thought as I have thought before 
 and since when at the council fire that there 
 was amusement in the very blankness of his gaze, 
 and that my effort to outdo him at his own 
 mummeiy somewhat taxed his gravity. When 
 he spoke at last he told his story concisely. 
 
 A half hour later, I went in search of Cadillac. 
 He heard my step on the crunching gravel, and
 
 10 MONTLIVET 
 
 when I was still rods away, he laid his finger on 
 his lips for silence. I went to him rather resent 
 fully, for I had had no mind to shout my news 
 in the street of the settlement, and I thought that 
 he was acting like a child. But he took no no 
 tice of my pique, and clapped me on the shoulder 
 as if we were pot-companions. 
 
 "Hush, man," he whispered fretfully. "Your 
 look is fairly shouting the news abroad. No need 
 to keep your tongue sealed, when you carry such 
 a tell-tale face. So they have an Iroquois ? " 
 
 I dropped my shoulder away from under his 
 hand. " If that is the news that you say I shouted, 
 no harm is done, save to my honor. No, they 
 have no Iroquois." 
 
 Cadillac stopped. "No Iroquois!" he echoed 
 heavily. 
 
 "No, monsieur. They have an Englishman." 
 
 It was as if I had struck him. He stepped 
 back, and his face grew dull red. 
 
 "A spy?" 
 
 I shook my head. I could feel my blood pump 
 ing hard, but I answered by rote. "Not by the 
 Huron s story." 
 
 The commandant snapped his fingers. "That 
 for his story ! As idle as wind in the grass ! " he 
 snorted. " But what did he say ?" 
 
 I grew as laconic as the Huron. "That they 
 left here as a hunting party," I said categorically.
 
 THE KEY 11 
 
 "That they soon joined a war party of Algon- 
 quins, and went with them to the English fron 
 tier. I could make little of his geography, but I 
 infer that they went in the direction of Boston, 
 - though not so far. There the Algonquins fell 
 upon a village, where they scalped and burned 
 to their fill. He says that the Hurons remained 
 neutral, and this prisoner, he maintains, is theirs 
 by purchase. They bought him from the Algon 
 quins for two white dressed deerskins, and they 
 have treated him well. They have found him a 
 man of spirit and importance, and they ask that 
 you make a suitable feast in honor of what they 
 have done. The Huron is waiting for your an 
 swer." 
 
 Cadillac had listened nodding, and his reply 
 was ready. "Tell him that they must bring the 
 prisoner to-morrow early, soon after daybreak. 
 Tell him that Monsieur de la Mothe-Cadillac 
 knows his part, and that the kettles shall be 
 full of dog-meat, and the young men painted and 
 ready for the dancing." He spoke rapidly, his 
 hand on his sword, and his great shoulders 
 lifted as if eager to meet their new burden. He 
 turned to me with a smile that would have con 
 quered enmity in a wolf. This is great news, 
 Montlivet. I could almost ask you to drink the 
 health of the Baron, and all his scurvy, seditious 
 crew. For, look you, even if the Englishman is
 
 12 MONTLIVET 
 
 a spy, and the Hurons have brought him here to 
 make a secret treaty, why, he is in our hands, 
 and Boston is a continent away. He will have 
 opportunity to learn some French before he goes 
 back to his codfish friends. What say you, mon 
 sieur?" 
 
 I laughed rather ruefully. I saw that the game 
 was to be exciting, and I had never been back 
 ward at a sport. Yet I knew that I must turn 
 my face from it. 
 
 "What do I say?" I repeated. "Nothing, 
 monsieur, but that I am a trader, not a diplomat, 
 and that to-morrow I must be on my way to the 
 west. I will take your answer to the Huron. 
 Monsieur, I hope you will sleep long and sweetly 
 to-night. You will need a clear head to-morrow." 
 
 Cadillac looked at me, and wagged his head. 
 " Good-day to you, trader," he said, with one 
 of his noiseless laughs. "How well you must 
 sleep who have no thought beyond your beaver 
 skins, even though you do carry brandy and 
 muskets hidden in your cargo. Never mind, 
 never mind. Keep your secrets. Only see that 
 Father Carheil does not smell your brandy, or I 
 may be forced to send you back to Montreal."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE CAPTIVE 
 
 I WOKE the next morning, saying, "I must 
 keep out of this," and I knew that I had said it 
 in my slumber. It is pitiful that a man should 
 be so infirm of will that he need cosset his reso 
 lution in this fashion, and I kicked the dogs from 
 the door of my cabin, and went out to meet the 
 world in a bad humor. 
 
 It was a still world in the great sky and water 
 spaces, but a noisy one upon the shore. Early 
 as it was the night dusk was still lingering - 
 the kettles were simmering, and the Indians 
 decked for a holiday. The sense of approach 
 ing action was powder to my nostrils, and added 
 to my spleen; so though I went down upon the 
 beach, and joined Cadillac and his officers, I was 
 but surly company, and soon turned my back 
 upon them, to stare off at the lake. 
 
 It was a breezeless morning, and the lake was 
 without ripple. It lay like one of the metal mir 
 rors that we sell the Indians, a lustreless gray 
 sheet that threw back twisted pictures. I looked 
 off at the east, and thought of the dull leagues 
 that lay behind me, and the uncounted ones
 
 14 MONTLIVET 
 
 before, and I realized that the morning air was 
 cold, and that I hated the dark, secret water that 
 led through this strange land. Yet, even as I 
 scowled at it, the disk of the sun climbed over the 
 island s rim, and laid a shining pathway through 
 the gray, a pathway that ended at my feet. 
 
 I felt my pulse quicken. After all, it was a fair 
 world, and the air, though keen, was a cordial. 
 I let my gaze travel up that shining, glimmering 
 track, and while I looked it was suddenly flecked 
 with canoes. Long and brown, they swung down 
 toward me like strong-winged birds upheld by 
 the path of the sunrise. 
 
 I looked back at the Indians. They, too, had 
 seen the canoes, but they made no sound of wel 
 come. Bedizened and wolf -eyed, they stood in 
 formal ranks as attentive as children at a pan 
 tomime. In a moment the canoes took clearer 
 shape, and the shine of the paddles could be seen 
 as the flat of the blades slanted toward the light. 
 The men at the paddles were indistinguishable, 
 crouching shapes, but their prisoner was stand 
 ing. He stood in the foremost canoe, and as his 
 figure was outlined against the sun I saw that he 
 was rigid as a mummy. I turned to Cadillac. 
 To see a white man bound! I could feel the 
 thongs eating into my own flesh. 
 
 "They have bound the Englishman!" I pro 
 tested. "Let us hope that they are not daring
 
 THE CAPTIVE 15 
 
 enough or crazed enough to make him sing 
 to grace their triumph." 
 
 But he laughed at my tone. "What does it 
 matter?" he shrugged. "These wards of mine 
 
 my happy family must have their fete in 
 their own fashion, or they will ask that I pay the 
 piper. Well, whatever they do, the prisoner is in 
 our hands, and it will be long before he escapes 
 them. Yes, listen, oh, the play-acting dogs! 
 
 they are making him sing now." 
 
 He had a keen ear, for, even to my forest- 
 trained sense, the sound came but faintly. The 
 crowd hushed its breathing, and the air was 
 unwholesomely still. A dog yelped, and an 
 Indian silenced it with a kick. Each paddle- 
 stroke threw the canoes into sharper relief, and 
 we could distinguish lank arms, and streaming 
 hair. The prisoner s voice echoed as clear as 
 if he were in some great playhouse, and were 
 singing to gain the plaudits of a friendly throng. 
 
 I felt my blood tingling in my fingers ends. 
 It was a brave song, bravely sung. I could not 
 understand the English words, but the sound 
 was rollicking with defiance. It was a glove 
 thrown in our faces ; the challenge of a brave 
 man to a cowardly foe. 
 
 "The plucky beggar!" I said half aloud, and 
 I set my teeth hard. 
 
 But Cadillac was nudging my elbow. "You
 
 16 MONTLIVET 
 
 said that the prisoner was a man of importance," 
 he accused, with a perplexed frown. "But, lis 
 ten! He has the voice of a boy." 
 
 I was greedy to hear, so, with a wave of the 
 hand, I shook Cadillac away. But, in truth, I 
 was disturbed. The tones were certainly boy 
 ish. 
 
 The canoes came within bowshot, and the 
 hush that held the camp suddenly broke like the 
 release of pent waters. There were yells and 
 stamping, the smash of tom-toms, and a scatter 
 ing salvo of musketry. It was a united roar 
 that shut out from our consciousness the thought 
 of the calm sky and the silent water. 
 
 The canoes had come as unswervingly as ar 
 rows, and the one that held the prisoner landed 
 at my feet. I looked up, and met his eyes, and 
 I swept my hat from my head. 
 
 "You are among friends," I called, not know 
 ing that I did so. 
 
 It was a foolish speech, since the prisoner 
 could not understand; but I suppose that my 
 tone was kind, for it apparently gave him cour 
 age. At least, a flush that might have been the 
 color of returning hope rose in his cheeks. I 
 was relieved at his appearance, for he was not 
 the little lad that his song had made me fear. 
 He was slim and beardless, but there were sor 
 row and understanding in his look that could not
 
 THE CAPTIVE 17 
 
 come with childhood. For the rest, he was dark 
 and gaunt from exposure and privation. His 
 rough woolen suit, leather-lined, hung loosely 
 on him, but he wore it with a jauntiness that 
 matched the bravado of his song. 
 
 Cadillac came forward in welcome. He was 
 always an orator that the Indians themselves en 
 vied, and now his rhetoric was as unhampered 
 as though he thought that the prisoner was fol 
 lowing each flowing syllable. As he unbound 
 the stiffened arms they were pitifully thin 
 and small, I thought he called all mythology 
 to witness his deep regret that this indignity 
 should have been offered to his brother of the 
 white race. I followed him and listened, stor 
 ing away metaphors even as I carried beads in 
 my cargo. I should need all the eloquence at my 
 command before the close of the summer, and 
 my own tongue was always too direct of speech. 
 
 Cadillac felt me at his elbow, and when he 
 saw my listening face he stopped to give me a 
 slow w r ink. "Will monsieur turn pupil to learn 
 swaggering?" he asked, with an upward cock 
 of the eye. "I had thought him too old for a 
 school." 
 
 I bowled, and hated myself for my lagging 
 wits that would not furnish a retort. " Never 
 too old to sit at your feet," I assured him, and I 
 went away knowing that I had been slow, and
 
 18 MONTLIVET 
 
 that the honors were with him, but knowing, 
 also, that somehow I liked the man, and that I 
 should drink his health when I opened my next 
 tierce of canary. 
 
 I went to find my men, and it was time that I 
 bestirred myself. License was in order, and the 
 revel assaulted eyes, ears, and nose, till a white 
 man was wise if he forsook his dignity, and ran 
 like a fox to cover. The air was surfeiting with 
 the steam of food. Dog-meat bubbled in great 
 caldrons, and maize cakes crackled on hot stones. 
 A bear had been brought in, and was being 
 hacked in pieces to add to the broth. The women 
 did this, and as I passed them they stopped, with 
 their hands dripping red, and shook their wam 
 pum necklaces at me, and pointed meaningly 
 toward a neighboring hut, where I had been told 
 that rum could be bought if you were discreet in 
 choosing your occasion. I tossed them a handful 
 of small coins, and warned them in Huron that 
 if they molested my men I should report them to 
 the commandant. I felt yet more haste to see 
 my canoes under way. 
 
 I was plunging on in this fashion when Fa 
 ther Carheil plucked at my sleeve. "Do you 
 think you are running from the Iroquois?" he 
 grumbled, and he pushed his irritable, brilliant 
 face close to mine. It was an old face, lined 
 and withered, and the hair above it was scanty
 
 THE CAPTIVE 19 
 
 and gray, but never have I met a look that 
 showed more fire and unconquerable will. * The 
 commandant wishes you," he went on. "He 
 asked me to fetch you. I should not have com 
 plied it is I who should ask services of him 
 - but I wished to speak to you on my own ac 
 count. Monsieur, do you know these men that 
 you have in your employ?" 
 
 I nodded. "As well as I know my own heart. 
 They are my habitants." 
 
 Your habitants ! Then you have a seigniory ? 
 Why do you not stay there as the king wishes ?" 
 
 I shook my head at him. ; We use large 
 words in this new land, father. Yes, I have a 
 seigniory. That is, I own some barren acres 
 near Montreal that I can occupy only at risk of 
 my scalp. As to the king, I think he wishes me 
 to trade, at least I carry his license to that 
 effect. But what are my men doing?" 
 
 The Jesuit s thin old hands clutched each other. 
 "They are turning this place into a Sodom," 
 he said passionately. "They are drinking and 
 carousing with the Indian women. You traders 
 are our ruin. But we will shut you out of the 
 country yet. Mark my words. Those twenty- 
 five licenses will be revoked before the season 
 ends, and you will have to find other excuses 
 to bring your rabble here to debauch our mis 
 sions."
 
 20 MONTLIVET 
 
 In view of what I had just seen, I felt impa 
 tient. "You do my handful of stolid peasants 
 too much honor," I said dryly. "They would 
 need more wit and ingenuity than I have ever 
 seen in them to be able to teach outlawry to any 
 thing that they find here. But I am looking for 
 them now. You will pardon me if I hasten." 
 
 But his hand pulled at me. "Is one of your 
 men lipped like a bull-moose and red as Rufus ?" 
 
 "Pierre Boudin to the life," I chuckled. 
 "What deviltry is he at now?" 
 
 The priest s face lost its flame. He looked 
 suddenly the old man worn out in the service of 
 a savage people. "He is with an Ottawa girl," 
 he said sadly; "a girl the Indians call Singing 
 Arrow for her wit and her laughter. She is not 
 a convert, but she is a good girl. I wish you 
 would get your man away." 
 
 I felt shame for my man and myself. "I will 
 go at once," I promised soberly. " I will be west 
 ward bound by afternoon." 
 
 The old priest looked at me with friendly eyes. 
 "There will be trouble before sundown," he said 
 gravely. "If you wish to get away, go quickly, 
 or you may not go at all. Now you must report 
 to the commandant." 
 
 But I had turned my face the other way. " Not 
 till I have found Pierre," I returned. 
 
 I had no summer stroll before me. Pierre,
 
 THE CAPTIVE 21 
 
 Anak that he was, was as lost as a leaf in a whirl 
 pool, and though I had quick eyes, and shoul 
 ders that could force a passage for me in a crowd, 
 I could see no sign of his oriole crest of red head 
 in all the bobbing multitude of blackbirds. In 
 stead I stumbled upon Cadillac. 
 
 He linked his arm in mine. "Do you know," 
 he said abruptly, "the prisoner has spirit and to 
 spare. He may be a man of importance after 
 all." 
 
 I answered like a fool. "I think not. He is 
 dressed like a yeoman." 
 
 Cadillac put me at arm s length, and puffed 
 his cheeks with silent laughter. "Plumage, eh? 
 Are you willing to be judged by your own?" 
 He stopped to let his glance rest on my shabby 
 gear. "Truly it must be a long year since you 
 fronted a mirror, or you would not be so com 
 placent. No, monsieur, the prisoner is a gentle 
 man. No yeoman ever carried his head with 
 such a poise. But who is he ? I would give all 
 the pistoles in my pocket though, in faith, 
 they re few enough if I could understand 
 English. But you may be able to help me. Go 
 speak to the prisoner in Huron. He must have 
 picked up something of the Indian speech in his 
 trip here." 
 
 This was my opportunity. "Monsieur," I 
 said, " I should like an understanding. Re-
 
 22 MONTLIVET 
 
 member how little all this can mean to me, a 
 trader, and do not think me churlish if I try to 
 keep myself free from this intrigue. I will go to 
 the prisoner now, if you wish; but, that done, I 
 beg you to hold me excused of any further ser 
 vice in this matter." 
 
 Cadillac looked me over, and now his glance 
 went, not to my doublet, but to the man within. 
 "A trader!" he said curtly. "A trader carry 
 ing contraband brandy. A good commandant 
 would send you back where you belong. No, 
 no, monsieur, wait! I am not threatening you. 
 Though you know as well as I that the thumb 
 screws are rather convenient to my hand should 
 I care to use them. But there should be no 
 necessity for that. Montlivet, I hardly under 
 stand your reluctance in the matter of this Eng 
 lishman. We should be one in this affair, what 
 ever our private concerns. Even Black Gown 
 and I - - and the world says we are not lovers 
 - are working together. Why do you draw 
 back?" 
 
 I could not meet him with less than the truth. 
 " You have stated the reason, monsieur. My 
 private concerns, they seem large to me, and 
 I fear to jeopard them by becoming entangled 
 here. I regret this. You have shown me great 
 clemency in the matter of the brandy, though 
 if you had confiscated it I should still have
 
 THE CAPTIVE 23 
 
 pushed on, and for that, and for your own 
 sake, monsieur, I should be glad to serve you." 
 
 He looked at my outstretched palm, and laid 
 his own upon it. T is fairly spoken," he said 
 slowly, " and I think you mean it." Then he grew 
 peevish. "A pest on this country!" he cried. 
 "We are all kings in disguise, and have a 
 monarchy hidden in our hats. And what does it 
 amount to? No bread, no wine, no thanks; a 
 dog s life and a jackal s death, and all to hold 
 some leagues of barren land for his petticoat- 
 ridden majesty at Versailles. Oh, why not say 
 it? We can tell the truth here without losing 
 our heads." 
 
 "The king s arm" - I began. 
 
 "Is long," he interrupted. Yet, in truth, 
 your face is longer. Are you so eager to be 
 gone ? Well, get you to the prisoner, and, my 
 hand on it, I shall ask for nothing more."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 BEHIND THE COMMANDANT S DOOR 
 
 THE commandant s door had come to be the 
 portal through which I stepped from safety into 
 meddling. Yet I opened it now with laughter 
 peeping from my sleeve. To bait the English 
 man in Huron seemed a good-natured enough 
 jest, and full of possibilities. 
 
 But one look at the prisoner drained my 
 laughter. He was lying on a bench, his face 
 hidden in his out-flung arms, and his slenderness 
 and helplessness pulled at me hard. I knew 
 that despair, and even tears, must have con 
 quered now that he was alone, and I wished 
 that I might save his pride, and slip away until 
 he had fought back his bravery, and had him 
 self in hand. 
 
 But he had heard my step, and drew himself 
 up to face me. He turned with composure, and 
 fronted me with so much dignity that I stood 
 like a blundering oaf trapped by my own emotion. 
 There was no emotion in his look. He had 
 been thinking, not despairing, and his face was 
 sharpened and lighted with such concentration 
 that I felt slapped with cold steel. He looked
 
 THE COMMANDANT S DOOR 25 
 
 all intellect and determination, a thing of will 
 power rather than flesh and braw r n. 
 
 My Huron speech seemed out of place, but 
 there was no choice left me, so I used it. There 
 was refuge for my dignity in the sonorous sylla 
 bles, and I spoke as to a fellow sachem. Then 
 I asked the prisoner his name, and waited for 
 response. 
 
 None came. I knew that I had spoken 
 rapidly, so I tried again. I chose short words, 
 and framed my sentences like a schoolmaster. 
 
 The prisoner listened negligently. Then he 
 put out his hand. "Pardon, monsieur. But I 
 speak French, though indifferently," he said, 
 with a slight shrug. 
 
 My anger made my ears buzz; I would not 
 bandy words with a man of so small and sly a 
 spirit. I turned to leave. 
 
 But the prisoner stepped between me and the 
 door. "You were sent here with a message," 
 he said; "I am listening." 
 
 His sunken brown eyes were so deep in melan 
 choly that I could not hold my wrath. "Was 
 it a gentleman s part to lead me on to play the 
 clown?" I asked. "I came in kindness." 
 
 He smiled a little, a bitter smile that did not 
 reach his eyes. "I am not, like you, a gentle 
 man by birth, monsieur," he said slowly, "and 
 so often trip in my behavior. Granted that you
 
 26 MONTLIVET 
 
 were amusing, and you were, monsieur, 
 can you blame me for using you for a diversion ? 
 I infer that you have come to tell me that the 
 time left me, either for amusement or penitence, 
 is short." 
 
 It was bravely said, but I knew from the care 
 ful repression of his tone that his hardness was a 
 brittle veneer. He was young to carry so bold 
 a front when his heart must be hammering, and 
 I would willingly have talked any doggerel to have 
 afforded him another smile. 
 
 "I know nothing of your future," I hastened, 
 " save that, arguing from your youth, it will prob 
 ably be a long one. It was your past that I was 
 sent to ask concerning. The commandant sent 
 me. Since you speak French, my mission is 
 over. The commandant will come himself." 
 
 The prisoner laid his hand upon a chair. 
 "Will you sit? I would rather it be you than 
 the commandant, if it must be any one. What 
 were you sent to ask?" 
 
 I waved away the chair, for I thought of the 
 passing moments and of what I had promised 
 Father Carheil. "I must hasten," I said irrita 
 bly. "What was I to ask? Why, your name, 
 the account of your capture, the story of your 
 being here, in brief." 
 
 He saw that I glanced at the door, and he 
 walked over to it. "Wait!" he interposed. "I
 
 THE COMMANDANT S DOOR 27 
 
 can answer you in a line. But one question 
 first. Monsieur, I I" 
 Yes, monsieur." 
 
 "Monsieur, I I must think a moment. 
 Be patient, if you will." 
 
 His voice was calm, but there was something 
 in his look that forced my pity. "Tell me 
 nothing that I must not tell the commandant," 
 I warned. "But be assured of my good will." 
 
 I think he did not hear. He sat with his 
 forehead on his hand, and I knew that he was 
 thinking. He looked up with a new decision in 
 his glance. 
 
 " Monsieur, you lead a strange life in this place. 
 I see nothing but men. Have you no families ?" 
 
 I swore under my breath. I had expected 
 some meat from his remark, and he gave me 
 trivialities. I had no time for social prelimi 
 naries, and I felt sudden distaste for him. I 
 pointed him to the window. 
 
 "We are not all men. There are Indian 
 women in plenty. Shall I draw the shade that 
 you may see ? There are many of my country 
 men to tell you that they find them fair." 
 
 "But are there no white families in the 
 settlement?" He was leaning forward, and he 
 ignored the insult of my air. 
 
 I shook my head. "None, monsieur. None 
 short of Montreal."
 
 28 MONTLIVET 
 
 He tapped the floor, and frowned. His look 
 went beyond me, and he was absorbed. "None 
 short of Montreal. Indeed you live a strange 
 life. Monsieur, is it far to Montreal?" 
 
 I shrugged. "Yes, it is a long journey. 
 Come, monsieur, we waste time. I wish you 
 good-day." 
 
 He glanced up quickly. His was a mislead 
 ing face, for while his words were meaningless, 
 and showed him of a small and trifling mind, his 
 look was yet keen. He saw that I had wearied 
 of him, and he put out his hand to beg my at 
 tention. 
 
 "Wait, monsieur!" he cried. 
 
 "Monsieur, you waste my time." 
 
 " I shall waste no more. I have made up my 
 mind. Listen. I promised you my story." He 
 had regained all his quiet arrogance. "It is 
 soon told. I am an Englishman, or a colonist, 
 if you like the term better. I was in a village 
 on the Connecticut frontier, when your savages 
 came down upon us. No, I am wrong. They 
 did nothing so manly as to come down upon us 
 boldly. They slid among us like foul vermin 
 afraid of the light. They achieved a notable 
 victory, monsieur. I see that you recognize 
 their prowess, and that the feast you have pre 
 pared for them is lavish. It was a noble battle- 
 I regret you could not have seen it. There were
 
 THE COMMANDANT S DOOR 29 
 
 some hundreds of the Indians, and a scattering 
 handful of us. A quiet farming community, 
 monsieur, that worked hard, supped early, and 
 slept the deep sleep of quiet living and sober 
 minds. We waked to find the scalping knives at 
 our throats, and the death scream of children in 
 our ears. Look over the bags of scalps, and see 
 the number of women and old men that your 
 braves had to overcome. You will be proud of 
 them, monsieur." 
 
 I clenched my hand, and wished myself else 
 where. "But our Hurons say they were neu 
 tral," I defended. 
 
 He lifted his brows. "You prefer to give all 
 the praise to the Algon quins ?"he asked smoothly. 
 "I understand. Yes, I have heard that the 
 Algonquins stand even closer to you than your 
 Hurons here. They are more than brothers. 
 Indeed, it is said that your Count Frontenac calls 
 them his children. Well, they did you credit. 
 It took ten of them to silence Goodman Ellwood s 
 musket, but they butchered him in the end. If 
 you find a scalp with long silky white hair, mon 
 sieur, it belongs to John Ellwood. Value it, and 
 nail it among your trophies, for it cost you the 
 lives of a full half-dozen Algonquin braves." 
 
 I kept my eyes down. I had come here to 
 unearth a certain fact, and I would pursue it. 
 "But were the Hurons neutral?" I persisted.
 
 30 MONTLIVET 
 
 I could not even guess at what raw nerve I 
 touched, but he suddenly threw his arms wide 
 as men do when a shot is mortal. His cool in 
 solence dropped from him, and he was all fire 
 and helpless defiance. He stamped his foot, till, 
 slender as he was, the boards rang. "Were the 
 Hurons neutral?" he mocked, in a voice so like 
 my own I could have sworn it was an echo. 
 "What manner of man are you ? Are you made 
 of chalk ? If you had seen a child s brains 
 dashed out against a tree, would you stop to ask 
 the Indian who held the dripping corpse what 
 dialect he spoke ? Oh, a man should be ashamed 
 to live who has seen such things, and who keeps 
 his sword sheathed while one of your Indian 
 family brothers or children -- remains alive! 
 If you had blood in your veins, you would be 
 man enough not to put even an enemy upon the 
 rack, in this way, and force him to live that time 
 over to glut your curiosity. Here is my answer, 
 which you may take to your commandant. I am 
 an Englishman, I am your prisoner, and you are 
 to remember that I am, first, last, and at all 
 times, your foe. Now go to your commandant, 
 and tell him to keep himself and his schoolboy 
 orations out of my way." 
 
 He was shaking, and his face was dead white. 
 I did not answer, but I took him by the arm, 
 and led him to a chair. He tried to resist, but I
 
 THE COMMANDANT S DOOR 31 
 
 am strong. Then I brought him a cup of water 
 from a pail that stood near by. 
 
 " Drink it," I said, " and when food is sent you, 
 eat what you can. Your race is not over, and if 
 you wish to trick and outwit us, as you were 
 planning when I found you lying here, you 
 will need more strength than you are showing 
 now. I have but one more question. You must 
 tell me your name." 
 
 For a moment he did not reply. He was still 
 shaking painfully, and water from the cup in his 
 hand splashed over him. "My name," he said 
 slowly, "my name is is Benjamin Starling." 
 
 I took the cup away. "I am waiting," I said 
 after a pause. 
 
 "Waiting for what, monsieur?" When he 
 willed, he could speak winningly, and he did it 
 now. 
 
 I took paper from my pocket. "For your 
 real name," I answered. "I shall write it here, 
 and you must swear that it is true. Don t 
 squander lies. Plain dealing will be best for us 
 both." 
 
 He was as changeable as June weather. 
 Now it was his cue to look pleading. " The 
 Indians called me by a name that meant bitter 
 waters," he said hesitatingly. "But my bap 
 tismal records say Starling. I am telling you 
 the truth, monsieur."
 
 32 MONTLIVET 
 
 I wrote the name so that he could see. You 
 give me your word as a gentleman," I said, "that 
 your name is Benjamin Starling." 
 
 He stopped a moment. "Can a yeoman 
 swear himself a gentleman?" he asked. "I 
 think not. I will be more explicit. I give you 
 my oath as a truth-loving person that my name 
 is Starling." 
 
 I put up the paper. Thank you," I said. 
 "And now, Monsieur Starling, we will say good- 
 by. I am only a chance wayfarer here, and 
 leave in an hour. I cannot wish you success, 
 since you are my foe, but I can wish you a safe 
 return to your own kind. I hope that we shall 
 meet again. When I am dealing with a foe that 
 I respect, I prefer him with his hands unbound. 
 Good-day, monsieur." 
 
 But he was before me at the door. I saw that 
 my news troubled him. 
 
 "You mean," he asked, "that you are leav 
 ing here for several days?" 
 
 I laid my hand on the latch. "No," I 
 answered. "I leave for several months, mon 
 sieur." 
 
 "For months! Oh no!" he cried, and he 
 drew back and looked at me. "Then I am like 
 never to see you again," he said thoughtfully. 
 "You have been kind to me." He suddenly 
 thrust out his hand. "Monsieur, I will be
 
 THE COMMANDANT S DOOR 33 
 
 more generous than you. I wish you suc 
 cess." 
 
 But I would not take his hand on those terms. 
 "Don t!" I said roughly. "You cannot wish 
 me success. It will mean failure to you to 
 your people. No, we are foes, and let us wear 
 our colors honestly. Again, I wish you good- 
 day;" and, bowing, I raised the latch, and made 
 my way out of the commandant s door.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 IN THE OTTAWA CAMP 
 
 CHANCE was disposed to be in a good humor. I 
 had scarcely stepped into the crowd when I saw 
 Pierre. 
 
 I went to him knowing that I should find 
 opportunity for reproof, but should probably 
 lack the will. For Pierre was my harlequin, 
 and what man can easily censure his own amuse 
 ments even when he sees their harm ? Then 
 there was more to make me lenient. The man s 
 family had served my own for as many genera 
 tions as the rooks had builded in our yews, and 
 so, on one side at least, he inherited blind loyalty 
 to my name. I say on one side, for his blood 
 was mixed; his father had married a vagrant, a 
 half-gypsy Irish girl who begged among the 
 villages. It was the union of a stolid ox and a 
 wildcat, and I had much amusement watching 
 the two breeds fight for the mastery in the huge 
 Pierre. The cat was quicker of wit, but the ox 
 was of more use to me in the long run, so I tried 
 to keep an excess of stimulants whether of 
 brandy or adventure out of Pierre s way. 
 
 He was a figure for Bacchus when I found him,
 
 IN THE OTTAWA CAMP 35 
 
 and I pricked at him with my sword, and drove 
 him to the water, where I saw him well im 
 mersed. 
 
 "Now for quick work," I admonished. "I 
 must see the commandant, but only for a 
 moment. You gather the men, and have the 
 canoes in waiting. There will be no tobacco 
 for you to-night, if you are not ready when I 
 come." 
 
 He shook the water from his red locks, and 
 wagged his head in much more docile fashion 
 than I had expected. " My master cannot go too 
 fast for me," he said, with a twist of his great pro 
 truding lip. "I have no liking for white meat 
 broth myself." 
 
 He drew back like one who has hit a bull s- 
 eye and w r aited for me to ask questions, but I 
 thought that I knew my man, and laughed at his 
 childishness. 
 
 "No more of that!" I said with perfunctory 
 sternness. " What pot-house rabble of Indians 
 have you been with that you should prattle of 
 making broth of white men, and dare bring such 
 speech to me as a jest! That is not talk for 
 civilized men, and if you repeat it I shall send 
 you back to France. You are more familiar 
 with the savages than I like a man of mine 
 to be. Remember that, Pierre. Now go." 
 
 But he lingered. "It is no pot-house story,"
 
 36 MONTLIVET 
 
 he defended sulkily. "The Ottawas say they 
 will go to war if the prisoner is not put in the pot 
 before to-morrow morning. And what can the 
 commandant do ? The Ottawas are two thou 
 sand strong." 
 
 I knew, without comment, that he was telling 
 me the truth, and I stood still. The din of the 
 dancing and feasting was growing more and 
 more uproarious, and the Indians were ripe for 
 any insanity. I saw that the sun was already 
 casting long shadows, and that the night would 
 be on us before many hours. I looked at the 
 garrison. Two hundred Frenchmen all told, 
 and most of them half-hearted when it came to 
 defending an Englishman and a foe! I turned 
 to my man. 
 
 You have been with an Ottawa girl, called 
 Singing Arrow," I said. "Are you bringing me 
 some woman s tale you learned from her?" 
 
 He squirmed like a clumsy puppy, but I could 
 see his pride in my omniscience. " She is smarter 
 than a man," he said vaguely. 
 
 And Pierre were the man, I thought that 
 likely. Take me to her," I commanded. 
 
 I expected to follow him among the revelers, 
 but he turned his back on them, and led the way 
 through a labyrinth of huts, a maze so winding 
 that I judged him more sober than I had thought. 
 When we found the girl, she was alone, and I
 
 IN THE OTTAWA CAMP 37 
 
 saw from her look that this was not the first 
 visit Pierre had made. 
 
 He summoned her importantly, while I with 
 drew to a distance, that I might have her brought 
 to me in form. I was intent and uneasy, but I 
 had room in my heart for vain self-satisfaction 
 that I knew something of the Ottawa speech. 
 My proficiency in Indian dialects, for which the 
 world praised me lightly, as it might commend 
 the cut of my doublet, had cost me much drudg 
 ery and denial, and my moments of reward were 
 rare. 
 
 Singing Arrow came forward, and curtsied 
 as the priests had taught her. I was forced to 
 approve my man s taste. Not that she was 
 beautiful to my eyes, for brown women were 
 never to my liking ; but she had youth and neat 
 ness, and when she raised her eyes I saw that 
 I might look for intelligence and daring. I mo 
 tioned her to come nearer. 
 
 "Singing Arrow," I said, in somewhat halt 
 ing Ottawa, "my man here tells me that your 
 people are talking as if they were asleep, and 
 were dreaming that they were all kings. Now 
 when a dog barks at the moon, we do not stop 
 to tremble for the safety of the moon, but we 
 ask what is the matter with the dog. That is 
 what I would ask of you. What do the Otta- 
 was care what Monsieur de la Mothe-Cadillac,
 
 38 MONTLIVET 
 
 the commandant, does with the English pris 
 oner?" 
 
 She thought a moment, and plaited the folds 
 of her beaver-skin skirt as I have seen many a 
 white girl do. "I know of no dog," she said, 
 with a slow upward glance that tried to gauge my 
 temper. "And as for the moon, it shines alike 
 on the grass and the tall trees, and I have seen no 
 Frenchman yet who could reach up and pluck 
 it from its place. But I have seen a chain that 
 was once bright like silver grow dull and eaten 
 with rust. A wise man will throw such a chain 
 away, and ask for a new one." 
 
 I shrugged. You have sharp eyes," I said, 
 shrugging yet more, "if you can see rust on the 
 covenant chain that binds the French to the 
 Ottawas. Is that what you mean?" 
 
 She looked up with a flash of fun and diablerie 
 such as I never thought to see in a savage face. 
 Then monsieur has seen it himself?" 
 
 Now this would not do; I would leave all 
 gallantries to my subordinate. This is idle 
 talk," I said, as I lit my pipe, and prepared as 
 if to go. "It is the clatter of water among 
 stones that makes a great noise, but goes no 
 where. I have seen many strange things in my 
 life, but never a cat that could fight fair, nor 
 a woman that could answer a direct question. 
 Look at this now. I ask you about the Eng-
 
 39 
 
 lish prisoner, and you talk to me of covenant 
 chains." 
 
 She looked at me with impassive good humor, 
 her hands busy with her wampum necklaces, 
 and I saw, not only that I had failed to entrap 
 her into losing her temper, but that I was deal 
 ing with a quick-witted woman of a race whose 
 women were trained politicians. But, for reasons 
 of her own, she chose to answer me fairly. 
 
 ;< The Frenchman is right," she said, with a 
 second swift upward look to test the ice where 
 she was venturing. "I was wrong to talk of 
 the covenant between the French and my peo 
 ple, for the chain is too weak to bear even the 
 weight of words. It is rusted till it is as useless 
 as a band of grasses to bind a wild bull. But 
 blood will cleanse rust. What can the French 
 want with their enemy, the Englishman ? Why 
 should not the prisoner s blood be used to 
 brighten the chain between the Ottawas and 
 the French?" 
 
 Now this was plain language. I listened to 
 the girl s speech, which was as gently cadenced 
 as if she talked of flowers or summer pleasures, 
 and thought that here was indeed snake s venom 
 offered as a sweetmeat. But why did she warn 
 me ? I had a flash of sense. I went to her, and 
 compelled her to stop playing with her necklaces, 
 and raise her eyes to mine.
 
 40 MONTLIVET 
 
 "Answer me, Singing Arrow," I commanded. 
 
 You are repeating what was said in council, 
 
 but you do not agree with it. You would like 
 
 to save the prisoner. Look at me again. Am 
 
 I right?" 
 
 I could as well have held an eel. She slipped 
 from my hands, and ran back to her lodge. 
 "So!" she cried, as she lifted the mat before 
 her door. "So it is not the dog alone that 
 smells at its food before it will eat. Why stay 
 here ? I have given you what you came to find. 
 Take it." And with a look at Pierre she dis 
 appeared. 
 
 Pierre gave a great bellow of laughter. "I 
 will catch her," he volunteered, and made a 
 plunge in the direction of the lodge; but I 
 caught him by the hood of his blanket coat, and 
 let his own impetus choke him. 
 
 "Now look you, Pierre Boudin," I said, "if 
 you cross the door of that lodge on any errand, 
 - on any errand, mind you, you are no longer 
 man of mine. I mean that; you are no longer 
 man of mine. Now begone. Gather the men, 
 go to the canoes, and wait there till I come. I 
 may come soon; I may not come till morning." 
 
 Pierre was still swelling. "As the master 
 wishes," he said, with his eyes down; but I 
 thought that he hesitated, and I called him to 
 me.
 
 IN THE OTTAWA CAMP 41 
 
 "Pierre," I said, "do you want to be sent 
 back to Montreal, and have Fra^ois Labarthe 
 put in your place?" 
 
 The giant looked up to see how much I was 
 in earnest, and, as I returned his look, all his 
 bravado oozed away. It does not seem quite 
 the part of a man to cow a subordinate till he 
 looks at you with the eyes of a whipped hound; 
 but it was the only method to use with Pierre, 
 and I went away satisfied. 
 
 I turned my steps toward the main camp of 
 Ottawas, and there I idled for an hour. The 
 braves were good-humored with me, for I was 
 a trader, not an officer, and their noses were 
 keen for the brandy that I might have for 
 barter. So that I was free to watch them at 
 their gambling, or dip my ladle in their kettles 
 if I willed. All this was good, but it went no 
 further. With all my artifices, I could not 
 make my way into the great circle around the 
 camp fire, and I grew sore with my incapacity, 
 for I saw that Longuant, the most powerful 
 chief of the Ottawas, was speaking. I picked 
 up a bone and threw it among the dogs with 
 an oath for my own slowness. 
 
 The bone was greasy, and I took out my 
 handkerchief, but before I could use it to wipe my 
 hands, a young squaw pushed her way up to 
 me, and offered her long black hair as a napkin.
 
 42 MONTLIVET 
 
 She threw the oily length across my arm, and 
 flattered me in fluent Ottawa. 
 
 Then I forgot myself. The body frequently 
 plays traitor in emergencies, and my repugnance 
 conquered me so that I pushed her away before 
 I had time to think. Then I knew that I must 
 make amends. 
 
 "The beauty of your hair is like the black 
 ice with the moon on it," I said in Ottawa. 
 You must not soil it." 
 
 She giggled with pleasure to hear me use her 
 own tongue, and would have come close to me 
 again, but I motioned her away. 
 
 "Stay there, and catch this," I called, and I 
 tossed her a small coin. 
 
 For all her squat figure and her broad, dull 
 face, she was quick of action as a weasel. She 
 put her hands behind her, and, thrusting her 
 head forward, caught the coin in her teeth. 
 It was well done; so well that I said "Brava, " 
 and the braves around me gave approving 
 grunts. 
 
 "Look at the stupid Frenchman!" I heard 
 a brave say. "For all his red coat, and his 
 manners, he cannot catch as well as a squaw." 
 
 I pointed my finger at him, and twirled my 
 mustaches as if I were playing villain in a 
 comedy. "A Frenchman does not stoop to 
 catch money," I vaunted, with my arm akimbo.
 
 IN THE OTTAWA CAMP 43 
 
 "Money is for slaves and women. Give the 
 Frenchman a spear, a man s weapon, and then 
 see if he can be beaten at throwing by a 
 squaw." 
 
 There was a laugh at this, and the squaw to 
 whom I had thrown the coin seized a sturgeon 
 spear that leaned against a kettle, and hurled it 
 at me. I turned my back, and caught it over 
 my shoulder. There was a hush among the 
 braves for a moment, then a low growl of 
 applause. "Let him do it again," several 
 voices cried. 
 
 I did it again, and yet again, in varying ways. 
 The squaw threw well, and caught better, but 
 she was no match for my longer reach and bet 
 ter training. Still we kept the spear hurtling. 
 With each throw I backed a pace or two toward 
 the council fire, and the crowd made way for 
 me. 
 
 ;< This is enough," I cried at length. "Have 
 you no men among you who can throw better 
 than your women?" 
 
 A dozen braves, each clamoring, leaped for 
 ward, but before I could select one of them, a 
 young Huron elbowed his way into the midst of 
 th m and placed himself before me. 
 
 Try your skill with me," he cried, striking 
 his breast, and though he spoke a broken 
 mixture of Huron and Ottawa, his air was so
 
 44 MONTLIVET 
 
 rhetorical that the Ottawas, always keen for a 
 dramatic moment, stopped to listen. 
 
 I balanced the spear in my hand. "I am 
 trying my skill with the Ottawas," I said. 
 "Since when has Pemaou, the Huron, forsaken 
 his own camp?" 
 
 The Huron drew back. He was a son of 
 that adroit traitor, the Baron, and what his 
 presence in this camp meant, I could only 
 surmise. But that he was of the Baron s blood 
 was enough for me, and I was prepared to 
 dislike him without searching for excuse. He, 
 on his part, looked equally unfriendly. He 
 resented my recognition, and taking his war 
 spear from his belt he sent it at me with a 
 vicious fling. 
 
 This heated my blood. I caught the spear, 
 and tested it across my knee. It was pliant 
 but tough, and wickedly barbed, a weapon for 
 a man to respect. "So you wanted the color 
 of my blood," I called angrily. You have 
 a good spear; all that was lacking was a man 
 to aim it; " and with a contemptuous laugh I 
 tossed the spear back to his hand. 
 
 Now this was mere childishness, and I knew it, 
 and hoped, with shame for my own lack of sense, 
 that Pemaou would not accept my covert chal 
 lenge, and that the matter would end there. 
 But Pemaou had purposes of his own. He
 
 IN THE OTTAWA CAMP 45 
 
 looked at the spear for a moment, then sent it 
 spinning toward my head. "On guard!" he 
 cried in my own tongue, and I remembered that 
 he had spent some time among the French at 
 Montreal. 
 
 I caught the spear, and cursed myself for a 
 fool. The Indians again gave tongue to their 
 approval, and gathered in a ring, leaving the 
 space between Pemaou and myself clear. All 
 was ready for the game to proceed. I hesitated 
 a moment, and the Ottawas laughed, while Pem 
 aou looked disdainful. 
 
 All animals are braggarts, from the cock in the 
 barnyard to the moose when he hears his rival, 
 and man is not much better. I pricked the 
 spear point against my hand, and looked at it 
 critically. 
 
 "It is as dull as the Huron s wits," I scoffed, 
 "but we will do the best that we can with it;" 
 and stepping back several feet nearer the coun 
 cil fire, I put the weapon into play. 
 
 I have been in weightier occasions than the 
 one that followed, but never in one that I can 
 remember in more detail. In all lives there are 
 moments that memory paints in bright, crude 
 colors, like pictures in a child s book, and so 
 this scene looks to me now. I can see the crowd 
 ing Ottawas, their bodies painted red and black, 
 their nose pendants a pebble hung on a deer-
 
 46 MONTLIVET 
 
 sinew swinging against their greasy lips as 
 they shouted plaudits or derision. But best I 
 can see Pemaou, dancing between me and the 
 sun like some grotesque dream fantasy. He 
 was in full war bravery, his body painted red, 
 barred with white stripes to imitate the lacing 
 on our uniforms, and his hair feather-decked 
 till he towered in height like a fir tree. I say 
 that he was grotesque, but at the time I did not 
 think of his appearance; I thought only that 
 here was a man who was my mate in cunning, 
 and who wished me ill. 
 
 This was no squaw s game, for each cast was 
 made with force and method. We both threw 
 warily, and the spear whistled to and fro as 
 regularly as a weaver s shuttle. I backed my 
 way toward the council fire until I could hear 
 Longuant distinctly, then I prayed my faculties 
 to serve me well, and stood my ground. My 
 mind was on the rack. I could not, for the 
 briefest instant, release the tension of my thought 
 as to the game before me, yet I missed no sound 
 from the group around the fire. The low, red 
 sun dazzled my eyes, and I waited, with each 
 throw from the Huron, for one that should be 
 aimed with deadlier intent. 
 
 For I realized that Pemaou was not doing his 
 best, and, since I had seen hate in his eyes, this 
 clemency troubled me. I wondered if he were a
 
 IN THE OTTAWA CAMP 47 
 
 decoy, and if some one were coming upon me 
 from the rear, and I stopped and stared at him 
 with defiance, only to see that he was looking, 
 not at me, nor at the attentive audience around 
 us, but over my head at the council fire. 
 
 Then, indeed, the truth clapped me in the face, 
 and I could have laughed aloud to think what a 
 puppet I had been, just when I was comforting 
 my vanity with my own shrewdness. Of course, 
 Pemaou would spare me, and so prolong the 
 game. As the son of the leader of the Hurons, 
 he had more to learn from Longuant s speech 
 than I. We were playing with the same cards, 
 but his stakes were the larger. I suddenly real 
 ized that I was enjoying myself more than in 
 a long time. 
 
 But the test was to come. When Pemaou had 
 heard all he wished, he would aim the spear at 
 my throat, and so, though I threw negligently, I 
 watched like a starved cat. I heard the council 
 agree upon a decisive measure, and I knew that 
 the Huron s moment had arrived. He seized it. 
 His spear whistled at me like a bullet, but my 
 muscles were braced and waiting. I caught the 
 weapon, and held it, though the wood ate into my 
 palms. The savages told the Huron in a deri 
 sive roar that the Frenchman was the better 
 man. 
 
 And now it was my turn. So far I had thrown
 
 48 MONTLIVET 
 
 fair, without twist or trickery, but I knew one 
 turn of the wrist that could do cruel work. 
 Should I use it? Pemaou had tried to murder 
 me. I looked at his red-and-white body, and 
 reptile eyes, and hate rushed to my brain like 
 liquor. I took the spear and snapped it. 
 
 Take your plaything!" I cried, and I tossed 
 the fragments in his face. "Learn to use it if 
 you care for a whole skin, for I promise you that 
 we shall meet again." And turning my back on 
 him, I strode out of the Ottawa camp the richer 
 by some information, and one foe.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A DECISION 
 
 I FOUND Cadillac in his private room at the 
 fort, and said to myself that he looked like 
 a man stripped for running. Not that his ap 
 parel had altered since I had met him swag 
 gering upon the beach the day before, but his 
 bearing had changed. He had dropped su 
 perfluities, and was hardened and sinewed for 
 action. 
 
 I expected him to rate me for my tardiness in 
 reporting my interview with the Englishman, 
 but, instead, he greeted me with so much eagerness 
 that I saw that some of my news must have run 
 before. 
 
 "What do you know?" I cried. 
 
 He looked at the crowd swarming outside the 
 window. That we are in a hornets nest," he 
 said, with a wry smile. "But never mind that 
 now. We must talk rapidly. I have been wait 
 ing for you. I could not act till I learned what 
 you had done." 
 
 I bowed my regrets. "I was delayed. I saw 
 the Englishman, and" 
 
 He cut me short. " Never mind the English-
 
 50 MONTLIVET 
 
 man," he cried, with a wave of his impatient 
 hand. " Tell me of the Ottawa camp. You have 
 been there an hour. I hear that you danced 
 where they danced, and shared dog-meat and 
 jest alike. In faith, Montlivet, I have a good 
 will to keep you here in irons if I can do it in no 
 gentler way. But what did Longuant say at the 
 council fire?" 
 
 I made sure that we were alone, and dropped 
 into a chair. My muscles were complaining, yet 
 I knew that I had but begun my day s work. 
 "It was a long council," I said, "and all the old 
 men were there. Longuant was leader, but he 
 was but one of many. The Ottawas are much 
 stirred." 
 
 "About the prisoner?" 
 
 I shook my head. " The prisoner is the 
 excuse, the touchstone. The real matter goes 
 deep. You have not blinded these people. 
 They know that England and France are at 
 war, but they know, too, that peace may be 
 declared any day. They know that the Baron 
 has made an underground treaty with the Eng 
 lish and the Iroquois, and they realize that the 
 Iroquois may attack this place at any time with 
 half the band of Hurons at their back. They 
 have no illusions as to what such an attack 
 would mean. They know that the French would 
 make terms and be spared, but that the Ottawas
 
 A DECISION 51 
 
 and the loyal Hurons would be butchered. They 
 are far-sighted." 
 
 Cadillac nodded heavily. " So they think that 
 we would desert them, and hand them over to 
 the Iroquois? We must reassure them." 
 
 I rapped on the table. "We did desert them 
 once," I reminded him. : They know how we 
 abandoned the refugee Hurons at Quebec, and 
 they hold our word lightly. It shames us to 
 say this, but we must see matters as they are. 
 No, the Ottawas do not trust us, but they trust 
 the English less. It is a choice of evils. But 
 they are shrewd enough to see that their greatest 
 peril lies in a truce between ourselves and the 
 English. Then they would indeed be between 
 two stools. Now, they see that there are two 
 paths open." 
 
 Cadillac was breathing heavily. You 
 
 mean " he asked. 
 
 I spoke slowly. "I mean," I said, "that 
 they must either go over to the English them 
 selves, or succeed in embroiling us with the 
 English." 
 
 "And they chose?" 
 
 "They did not choose. They temporized. 
 They see the advantages of a union with the 
 English. A better beaver market, and plenty 
 of brandy. It goes hard with them that we are 
 frugal with our muskets, while the English keep
 
 52 MONTLIVET 
 
 the Iroquois well armed. Longuant says, and 
 justly, that it is difficult to kill men with clubs. 
 On the other hand they like us, and find the Eng 
 lish abhorrent. So they have virtually agreed to 
 leave the casting vote with you. They will come 
 after sundown and demand that the prisoner be 
 given them for torture. If you agree, they will 
 feel that you have declared your position against 
 the English; if you refuse" I broke off, and 
 leaned back in the chair. I had not realized, till 
 my own voice stated it, how black a case we had 
 in hand. 
 
 We sat in silence for a time. Cadillac scowled 
 and beat his palm upon his knee as a flail beats 
 grain, and I knew he needed no words of mine. 
 I thought that he was going over his defenses in 
 his mind, and I began to calculate how many 
 rounds of shot I had in my canoes, and to hope 
 that my men would not prove cravens. I knew, 
 without argument with myself, that the beaver 
 lands did not need me half as much as I was 
 needed here. 
 
 At length Cadillac looked up. " Do you think 
 the prisoner is a spy?" he asked. 
 
 I had dreaded this question. "I am afraid 
 so, but judge of him yourself. He speaks 
 French." 
 
 Cadillac half rose. " He speaks French ? Yet 
 he is an Englishman ?"
 
 A DECISION 53 
 
 I nodded. " Undoubtedly an Englishman." 
 
 "And you made nothing of him?" 
 
 I could only shake my head. "Nothing. 
 He tells the story that I should tell if I were 
 lying, yet he may be telling the truth. He 
 is a bundle of inconsistencies ; that may be na 
 ture or art. He may be a hot-headed youth, who 
 knows nothing beyond his own bitterness over 
 his capture, or he may be a clever actor. I do 
 not know. " 
 
 Cadillac gave a long breath that was near a 
 sigh. " Poor soul ! " he said unexpectedly. " Well, 
 spy or otherwise, it matters little for the few 
 hours remaining." 
 
 I caught his arm across the table. " Cadillac ! " 
 I cried, with an oath. You would not do 
 that!" 
 
 He shook off my hand, and looked at me with 
 more regret than anger. "I am the rat in the 
 trap," he said simply. "What did you expect 
 me to do ?" 
 
 I rose. "Do you mean," I cried, my voice 
 rasping, "that you will not attempt a defense? 
 that you will hand a man, a white man, over to 
 those fiends of hell ? Good God, man, you are 
 worse than the Iroquois!" 
 
 He came over, and seized my arm. " I could 
 run you through for that speech," he said, his 
 teeth grating. "Are you a child, that you can-
 
 54 MONTLIVET 
 
 not look beyond the moment? Suppose I defy 
 the Ottawas. Then I must call on the Baron to 
 help me, since it was his men who brought the 
 prisoner to camp. Why, man, are you crazed ? 
 Look at the situation. Kondiaronk, the Huron, 
 will reason as the Ottawas have done, and throw 
 his forces on their side. I should be left with 
 only the Baron to back me, the Baron, who 
 has been whetting his knife for my throat for 
 the last year. Why, this is what he wants; this 
 is why he brought the prisoner here ! Would you 
 have me walk into his trap ? Would you have 
 me sacrifice my men, this garrison, why, this 
 country even, to save the life of one puny Eng 
 lishman, who is probably himself a spy?" He 
 stopped a moment. "Why, man, you sicken 
 me!" he cried, and he slashed at me with his 
 sword as if I were a reptile. 
 
 I took my own sword, and laid it on the table. 
 "I am a fool," I said, not for the first time that 
 day. " But how will Frontenac look at your hand 
 ing a white man over to torture?" 
 
 Cadillac put up his sword. "My orders are 
 plain," he said, tapping a sheaf of papers on his 
 desk. They came in the last packet. I am to 
 treat all prisoners in the Indian manner. As you 
 say, the Indians have come to think us chicken- 
 hearted. We must give them more than words if 
 we are to hold them as allies."
 
 A DECISION 55 
 
 I seized sword and hat. You are a good 
 servant," I said. "I wish you joy of your obedi 
 ence," and I plunged toward the door. 
 
 But an orderly stopped me on the threshold. 
 "Is Monsieur de la Mothe-Cadillac within?" he 
 asked. The Baron desires an audience with 
 him." 
 
 Cadillac pushed up behind me. "I am here," 
 he called to the orderly. Tell the Baron that 
 I will see him when the sun touches the water- 
 line." Then he pulled me back into the room. 
 "How much do you think the Baron knows?" 
 he demanded. 
 
 I felt shame for my forgetfulness. " Pemaou 
 was in the Ottawa camp," I said, and I told him 
 what had happened. 
 
 Cadillac s face hardened. "Then they have 
 sent to demand the prisoner," he pondered mood 
 ily. "I had hoped for a few hours respite. 
 There might have been some way for the prisoner 
 to escape." 
 
 I had been walking the floor, grinding my 
 mailed heels into the pine wood. "Escape!" 
 I cried at him. "Escape! To starve or be 
 eaten by wolves! The torture of the Ottawas 
 were kinder. Now it is your turn to play 
 the child. Escape ? Yes, but not alone. Go, 
 go, monsieur! Go and meet the Baron. Go 
 before I change my mind. Tell the Baron he
 
 56 MONTLIVET 
 
 can have the prisoner. Then go to Longuant, 
 and make what terms you will with him. Make 
 any concessions. Feather your nest while you 
 can. I want some one to win at this, since I 
 must lose. I will take the prisoner west with 
 me." 
 
 Cadillac seized me. "Montlivet, you mean 
 this ? " he demanded. His grip ate into my 
 arm. 
 
 I reached up, and unclasped his fingers. 
 " Unhand me!" I grumbled. "I must be on my 
 way." 
 
 But he paid no heed. You mean this?" 
 he reiterated, taking a fresh grip. "The pris 
 oner will hamper you." 
 
 I tore my arm away. "Hamper me!" I 
 jerked out. "He will clog me, manacle me! 
 But it is the only thing to do. Now go, while 
 this mood holds with me. Five minutes hence 
 I may not see things in this way. Go! I will 
 arrange the escape. You, as commandant, must 
 not connive with me at that. Go to the Indians, 
 and make your terms. If you can hold them off 
 till moonrise, I promise you the prisoner shall 
 be gone." 
 
 But Cadillac would not hasten. He gave me 
 the long estimating glance that I had seen him 
 use once before. "Montlivet," he said, with 
 his arm across my shoulder, "you are doing a
 
 A DECISION 57 
 
 great thing; a great thing for France. No man 
 could serve his country more fully than you are 
 doing at this moment. It is an obscure deed, 
 but a momentous one. No one can tell what 
 you may be doing for the empire by helping us 
 through this crisis." 
 
 But I was in no mood for heroics. " I am not 
 doing this for France," I cried irritably. "I live 
 to serve France, yes; but I want to serve her in 
 my own way. Not to have this millstone tied 
 around my neck, whether I will or no. Don t 
 think for a moment that I do this because I wish." 
 
 Cadillac removed his arm and looked at me. 
 : Then you do it from liking for the English 
 man ? " 
 
 I should have had the grace to laugh at this, 
 but now it was the torch to the magazine. 
 "Like him! No!" I shouted, with an oath. 
 "He is bitter of tongue, and, I think, a spy. 
 He is obnoxious to me. No, I am doing this 
 because I am, what the Ottawas call us all, 
 chicken-hearted!" and sick with myself and what 
 I had undertaken, I flung out of the door.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 DAME OPPORTUNITY 
 
 THE first thing to do was to see the Englishman. 
 For the third time in twenty-four hours I went 
 to the commandant s quarters. 
 
 The prisoner was at the window when I en 
 tered, and again I caught his look of keen intel 
 ligence ; a look which he apparently tried to veil 
 as his eyes met mine. That bred suspicion in me. 
 Yet I could not mistake the welcome with which 
 he greeted me. 
 
 "I am gratified to see you again, monsieur." 
 Now it was a civil phrase, and well spoken, but it 
 annoyed me. I could not understand his change 
 of look, and I dislike complexities. What was 
 the man concealing that he should drop his eyes 
 before me. In spite of the seriousness of our 
 joint state, I felt much inclination to take time, 
 then and there, to box his ears, and tell him 
 to be more forthright. My annoyance made it 
 easier for me to come without phrases to the 
 meat of the matter. I pressed him to a chair, 
 and stood over him. 
 
 You looked out of the window, Monsieur 
 Starling. What did you learn ?"
 
 DAME OPPORTUNITY 59 
 
 He glanced upward. " The Indians are ex 
 cited. Am I the cause?" 
 
 Yes, monsieur." 
 
 His glance fell. They want me for tor 
 ture," he said, with steadiness I could not but 
 commend. Then he turned suddenly. "Can 
 your commandant protect me?" 
 
 Now this was unexpected. I had intended to 
 lead up to this situation gradually, and the ques 
 tion caught me unguarded. The prisoner was 
 looking me full in the face, and he read there 
 what I had hoped to hide. 
 
 "I understand," he said. 
 
 I have been with many men when they 
 heard their death sentence, and those who take 
 it as this man did, with spirit and knowledge, 
 rob me of my hold on myself, so that I show 
 emotion of which I am ashamed. I turned 
 away. "Wait, wait, monsieur, I have not said 
 all!" I cried. "There is still one chance for 
 you." 
 
 He shook his head. "Small chance for me 
 with that swarm outside. Well, what must 
 come, will come." He was white, and his eyes 
 grew even more sombre; but, though his blood 
 might play him traitor, his will was unshaken. 
 I saw that. I saw, too, that his manner had 
 lost all bravado. He suddenly came to me, 
 and laid his hand on my arm. "I am glad,
 
 60 MONTLIVET 
 
 monsieur, that it was you who came to tell me. 
 It is much easier to hear it from you. All day 
 you have been thoughtful for me; for me, a 
 stranger and an enemy. I wish that my bless 
 ing might bring you happiness, monsieur." And 
 before I could check him, he raised my hand 
 to his lips. 
 
 I was greatly disturbed. " Stop ! Stop ! Stop ! " 
 I expostulated, too much stirred to think what 
 I was saying. "This is not the end. You are 
 to go west with me." 
 
 He drew away. "With you ? Who are you ? 
 What is the west ? You said you said that 
 I had to die." 
 
 I felt unsteady, and ill at ease. "Let us dis 
 cuss this like sane men!" I exclaimed, angry 
 at myself. You jump at conclusions. That 
 is a woman s foible. Who am I ? A trader, 
 Armand de Montlivet, from Montreal. I am 
 going west for peltries. It will be a hard trip, 
 and you will suffer; but it is your only chance. 
 I will get you to the canoe in some fashion soon 
 after dusk. I have not made my plans. I must 
 reconnoitre. Hold yourself ready to do what I 
 ask." 
 
 Still he drew away. "I shall be a burden. 
 Tell me the truth, shall I be a burden ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 He did not look angered. Indeed, his eyes
 
 DAME OPPORTUNITY 61 
 
 softened till I thought him near tears. "And 
 you will do this for me! Run all this risk! 
 And yet you never saw me before to-day!" He 
 touched his hand to mine. 
 
 Somehow this again annoyed me. The man 
 was concealing something from me, yet affected 
 to be moved to open emotion by his gratitude. 
 I was not at the bottom of him yet. I removed 
 his hand. 
 
 "Monsieur, you forget," I corrected. "You 
 said we were foes, and we are. I never embraced 
 an Englishman, and I shall not begin now 
 now that our nations are at war. You may be 
 a spy." 
 
 You think me a spy!" 
 
 I sighed from exasperation, and pointed to the 
 window. "Monsieur Starling, wake up to this 
 situation. What does it matter what you are, 
 or what I think? We waste time. Say that 
 you will follow me, and I shall go and make my 
 plans." 
 
 But still he looked at me. "Then you en 
 cumber yourself with me from abstract duty. 
 Personally you distrust me." 
 
 The truth seemed best. I bowed. 
 
 He thought this over. Then I refuse to go," 
 he decided quietly. " I refuse." And he bowed 
 toward the door to put a period to our interview. 
 
 But here my patience broke. I took him
 
 62 MONTLIVET 
 
 by the arm, and held him ungently. "Words! 
 Words! Words!" I mocked at him. "What 
 would you have me say ? That I love you ? In 
 faith, I don t. You irritate me; annoy me. But 
 save you I will, if only for my peace of mind. 
 Look at me. Look at me, I say." 
 
 He obeyed. All his hard nonchalance had re 
 turned. 
 
 "Do you trust me?" I demanded. 
 Yes, monsieur." 
 
 "Then you will come with me?" 
 
 "No, monsieur." 
 
 This was madness and it took time. "In 
 deed you will come," I said between my teeth. 
 "And that without more words. Good-by." 
 
 But he caught my sleeve. "Then you take 
 me against my will." 
 
 I brushed him away. "And against mine, 
 too, if you balk my wishes at every turn. But I 
 will take you. It is the only chance you have, 
 and if you are mad enough to refuse it, I must 
 force it on you. Remember, I shall use force. 
 Now stay by the window, and await my signal. 
 I shall come when I can." 
 
 He followed to the door. You will not need 
 to use force with me, monsieur," he said soberly. 
 "If you insist on taking me, I shall follow your 
 directions, and use what wit I can. But I can 
 not thank you, for I cannot feel grateful. You
 
 DAME OPPORTUNITY 63 
 
 give under protest, and I accept in the same way. 
 It is a forced companionship. I do not wish to 
 die ; but, after all, it will soon be over, and life has 
 not been sweet. I would rather risk what meets 
 me here than take help from you, now that I see 
 you give it grudgingly." 
 
 This chilled me, and excuses pressed hot on 
 my tongue. Yet it was unwise to protest. Why 
 should I wish his gratitude? It would hamper 
 us both. I had no desire to bind him to me 
 with obligations. I felt shame for my coldness; 
 but, for once, my head ruled, and I let the situa 
 tion stand. 
 
 You are a brave man, monsieur," I said in- 
 consequently. "I know that you will bear your 
 share to-night." 
 
 He laid his hand on the door, and searched 
 me with his sad eyes. " One last word," he said, 
 "and then I shall bury this for aye. Monsieur, 
 if I bring you misfortune, I ask you to remem 
 ber to remember from now on that you 
 took me against my will." 
 
 For all my impatience, I had some effort not 
 to smile. He would be a burden, he might be a 
 nuisance, but he could hardly be a misfortune. 
 He had a weighty sense of his importance, to use 
 so large a term. But I would not ridicule him. 
 "I promise," I said. 
 
 He held out his hand. "Say that again with
 
 64 MONTLIVET 
 
 your hand in mine. Promise me that, whatever 
 disaster I bring you, you will remember that I 
 came against my will." 
 
 Somehow that sobered me. "I promise," I 
 repeated, and touching his hand, and again bid 
 ding him be on the watch, I went away. 
 
 I had no plans. My mind was cloudy as 
 muddy water, and I sauntered around the camp 
 looking important and weighty with calculation, 
 but feeling resourceless and slow. Then I be 
 thought me of Singing Arrow. 
 
 I shouldered my way to her lodge with speed 
 that made me a target for scantily hidden 
 laughter. But I could not find her. Lodge and 
 fire were alike deserted. I asked questions, but 
 was met by shrugs. My eagerness had been un 
 wise. I had sought too openly and brusquely, 
 and the Ottawas suspected my zeal of being 
 official rather than personal. I saw myself in 
 their eyes as an officer of the law, and knew that 
 I had closed one door in my own face. I told 
 myself contemptuously that I had made so many 
 blunders in that one day that I must, by this time, 
 have exhausted the list, and that I would soon 
 stumble on the right road as the only one left. 
 
 And so it proved. For I went to my canoes, 
 and there, perched bird-wise on my cargo, and 
 flinging jests and laughter at Pierre and the men, 
 sat Singing Arrow.
 
 DAME OPPORTUNITY 65 
 
 It was what I most wanted, and so relieved 
 was I at finding it, that I could not forbear a 
 word of reproof. 
 
 " I told you to keep away from Singing Ar 
 row!" I stormed at Pierre, like the mother who 
 stops to shake her recovered child before she 
 cries over it. 
 
 Pierre grinned shamefacedly, but Singing Ar 
 row smiled like May sunlight. 
 
 "lias monsieur been looking for me?" she 
 asked. " He carries the wet red clay that lies in 
 front of my wigwam," and she pointed a curving 
 finger at my boots. 
 
 I could have embraced her. If I had no wit, 
 she had it and to spare. I made up my mind, 
 then and there, to trust her. It was a mad 
 chance, but a good gamester likes a dangerous 
 throw. 
 
 "Come here, Singing Arrow," I commanded, 
 and I would have led her down the beach out of 
 earshot. 
 
 She followed but a step or two, then halted, 
 balancing herself on one foot like a meditative 
 crane. " I want sunset-head to go too," she in 
 sisted, darting her covert bird-glance at Pierre, 
 and when I would have objected, I saw her 
 mouth pinch together, and I remembered that 
 no Indian will submit to force. So I let her 
 have her will.
 
 66 MONTLIVET 
 
 We held short council: Pierre the peasant, 
 Singing Arrow the squaw, and I, the Seignior de 
 Montlivet. We mingled suggestions and advice, 
 and struck a balance. The sunset flamed in the 
 woods behind us, and I knew that the moon rose 
 early. I could have used a knife upon Pierre 
 for the time it took me to convince him that our 
 canoes could carry one man more. Heretofore 
 my nod had been enough to bring him to my 
 heels, but now he thought his head in danger, so 
 he fought with me like an animal or an equal. 
 The equal I would not tolerate, and the animal 
 I cowed in brute fashion. Then I sent Singing 
 Arrow to do her work, and I went to the English 
 man. 
 
 The Englishman saw me from the window, 
 and was at the door before I could lift the latch. 
 Yet his eagerness did not trip him into careless 
 ness, and so long as the guards could see, he 
 greeted me with a hostile stare. 
 
 I pushed him within, and closed the door. 
 "Have you seen any one?" I asked. 
 
 "Only the guard with my supper." 
 
 I drew a freer breath. " Good tidings. Then 
 Cadillac has succeeded in holding off the Indians 
 until moonrise." 
 
 He glanced out at the dusk. That is not 
 long," he said dispassionately. 
 
 I put out my hand. Somehow this youth
 
 DAME OPPORTUNITY 67 
 
 could move me curiously by his calmness, al 
 though I was no stranger to brave men. 
 
 "The time is terribly short," I agreed, "but 
 we will make it suffice. And we need not haste. 
 We can do nothing till it is a little darker, then 
 we shall move swiftly. A young squaw, Singing 
 Arrow, will be here in a few minutes. You are 
 to escape in her dress." 
 
 He wasted no time in comment. "Am I dark 
 enough?" he demurred. "My neck, where I 
 am not sunburned, is very white." 
 
 I had thought of this, and had warned Sing 
 ing Arrow. There is no opportunity to stain 
 your skin," I said, "so we must trust to the dark, 
 and a blanket wrapping. The Indian will wear 
 leggings, skirt and blouse of skin, so you will 
 be fairly covered. The hands and hair are the 
 weak points. You will have to keep them in the 
 blanket." 
 
 He hesitated. You can trust this girl?" he 
 asked slowly. 
 
 Now why should he ask what he knew I could 
 not answer ? " Can you trust me or I you, 
 for the matter of that?" I jerked out with a 
 frown. This is an outlaw s land, and the wise 
 man trusts no one except under compulsion. I 
 would not trust Singing Arrow for a moment if 
 I could help myself, but she is our only hope, so 
 I trust her implicitly. I advise you to do the
 
 68 MONTLIVET 
 
 same. Half measures are folly. If you try to 
 be cautious in your dealings with her, you will 
 tie her hands so that the whole thing will fall 
 through. If she betrays us well, you are in 
 no worse estate than now, and we will still have 
 my sword and my men to depend on. But that 
 is a slender hope, and we will save it for a last 
 resort. Now we will hazard evervthing on this 
 plan." 
 
 I had made my long speech nervously, know 
 ing, in my heart, that what I asked the man to 
 do would take more courage of soul than one 
 would expect to find in his slender frame. For 
 I might be throwing him over to fiendish torment. 
 The Indian women were cruel as weasels, and 
 more ingenious in their trap-setting than the men. 
 It cooled my blood to think what Singing Arrow s 
 friendliness might really mean. 
 
 The prisoner heard me without flinching. 
 "But what is Singing Arrow s motive?" he 
 asked, with his mournful eyes full on my own. 
 : We cannot read men s hearts, but, after all, 
 there are but few springs that rule their action. 
 You know that I will be loyal to you to save my 
 head, to which, though it has served me badly, 
 I yet cling. I know that you will be loyal to me 
 because I see that God gave you a softness of 
 heart which your brain tells you is unwise. But 
 what string pulls this Indian that she should be
 
 DAME OPPORTUNITY 69 
 
 a traitor to her people ? If you will give me a 
 hint, I will play upon it as best I can." 
 
 I could only shrug. "It may be my man, 
 Pierre," I hazarded. "He is red as a flamingo, 
 and a fool into the bargain; but he has shoulders 
 like an ox, so the women want him. I can see 
 no other motive. Will you trust to that, mon 
 sieur ? " 
 
 He looked back at me with the flicker of a 
 smile. "It is sufficient." 
 
 I do not like smiles that I cannot understand, 
 so I changed the subject. The plan is sim 
 ple, monsieur," I said briskly. "Singing Arrow 
 will come to the window, and you are to make 
 love to her. After a time not too long you 
 are to beguile her inside. I think the guards 
 will be complaisant, if you play your part well. 
 Be as debonair as possible. A soldier is always 
 tempted to be lenient to a jaunty foe." 
 
 The prisoner nodded. "And you will meet 
 me?" 
 
 "Outside in the camp. I shall stand near a 
 fire, so that you can find me at once. Remember, 
 monsieur, that you are Singing Arrow, and that 
 it will be your cue to follow me, and mine to 
 shrug you away." 
 
 The Englishman drew a long breath. " I am 
 ready, monsieur," he said, with a little squaring 
 of the shoulders, and I saw that, mortal danger
 
 70 MONTLIVET 
 
 that he was in, his spirit yet responded to the 
 touch of comedy in the game. 
 
 I saluted him with a laugh of my own. Then 
 I will go, monsieur. Go into the next room to 
 change your clothing, or the guard may come 
 in and find you. One thing more. Remember 
 you have overpowered Singing Arrow, and taken 
 your disguise by force. It may be well to lock 
 her in that inside room before you leave; but do 
 as you like. I leave details to you." 
 
 He made acknowledgment with a sweeping 
 bow. "I will be a monster of cruelty," he pro 
 mised, and he pulled at imaginary mustachios 
 like a child at play. 
 
 Now it may be well to commend nonchalance, 
 but there are bounds that should not be passed. 
 Had this man no reverence toward the mystery 
 of his own life that he jested on the edge of it? 
 I had rather have seen him with a rosary in 
 his hand than with defiance on his lips. 
 
 " Is life all bitterness and sharp-edged laughter 
 with you, monsieur?" I asked bluntly. "This 
 may be our last talk. It is hardly a seemly one. 
 If you have messages to send that will not com 
 promise you, I will try and get them through 
 in case our plans fail." 
 
 The prisoner eyed me oddly. "And in case 
 you still live, monsieur," he corrected. You 
 show much solicitude that I meet my end deco-
 
 DAME OPPORTUNITY 71 
 
 rously, yet I cannot see that you display any 
 dolor over your own condition. Why should I 
 have less fortitude ? You are like a man who 
 cares not for religion for himself, yet insists upon 
 it for children and for his womenkind, for his 
 inferiors in general. Why should you feel that I 
 need so much prompting?" His voice suddenly 
 hardened. "Tell me. Is it my youth that makes 
 you feel yourself my mentor, or have I failed 
 you in any way ? Answer." And he gave the 
 stamp of the foot that I had heard once before. 
 
 How could I answer but with laughter? 
 You are a leopard, and a lamb, and a bantam 
 cock all in one," I jeered at him. "No wonder 
 that I feel you need a priest to shrive you; " and 
 I laughed again, and would not notice the hurt 
 shining of his eyes as I went away.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE BEGINNING 
 
 I HAD not vaunted idly when I told the prisoner 
 that our plans were ready. I had scarcely 
 dropped the latch of the commandant s door 
 when I saw Singing Arrow sauntering near. 
 
 She was graceful in her finery. Even a white 
 man might commend. Her skin garments 
 looked soft and clean, and draped her cunningly. 
 In the dusk and the firelight with the bright 
 blanket falling from her hair, she looked so win 
 ning that I thought the guards could find excuse 
 if the prisoner loitered at the window. 
 
 And loiter he did. I sauntered and watched 
 while the prisoner and Singing Arrow T threw 
 glances that proved them no tyros in the game 
 of love and life. The comedy was pleasing, and 
 I did not wonder that the guards tilted their 
 heads to one side, and looked on with grins. 
 Singing Arrow bridled, and drew away and then 
 drew near. All was going as we planned, till 
 Pemaou and a band of his Hurons came around 
 the corner of the house. 
 
 I had done Pemaou the justice to hate him 
 when I first saw him. And one does not hate
 
 THE BEGINNING 73 
 
 an inferior. He had as keen a mind as I have 
 ever known, and he was not hampered by any 
 of the scruples and decencies that interfere with 
 a white man. So he was my superior in re 
 source. I knew, as I saw him look at me now, 
 that my share in the game was over. He had 
 seen me listening to Longuant. Where had my 
 wits been lagging that I had not foreseen that 
 he would have spies watching me, and would 
 trace some connection between the prisoner and 
 myself? Well, there was nothing left me but 
 to stroll away. I did not dare go in the direc 
 tion of the canoes; it w r ould be unwise to seek 
 Cadillac; so I turned boldly to the Ottawa camp. 
 Hardly knowing what I planned, I asked for 
 Longuant. 
 
 Somewhat to my surprise, the Ottawas lis 
 tened with respect. I had apparently won some 
 reputation among them, and without demur they 
 took me to the chief. 
 
 Longuant was squatting before his lodge. A 
 piece of wood was laid across his lap, and he 
 was chopping rank tobacco with a scalping 
 knife. He smelled of oil, and smoke, and half- 
 cured hides; yet he met me as a ruler meets 
 an ambassador. As I stumbled after him into 
 his dark lodge, I saw that he was preparing to 
 greet me with all the silence and circumlocution 
 of a state messenger. I had no time for that,
 
 74 MONTLIVET 
 
 though it gratified me. I tramped my way 
 through all ceremony and plunged at my point. 
 
 "I am no envoy," I began, shaking my head 
 in refusal of the proffered seat upon the mat 
 beside him. "I am only a voice. A bird that 
 calls * beware from the branches, and then flits 
 away. Why watch the old wolf, and let the cub 
 play free? Would you make yourself a laugh 
 ing - stock among your people, by letting the 
 Englishman escape into the Baron s hands ? 
 Pernaou, son of the Baron, stands with his fol 
 lowers outside the Englishman s window. What 
 does he seek? I am no Ottawa. I am a free 
 man, bound to no clan, and to no covenant, 
 and friend to the Ottawas and Hurons alike. 
 But I do not like to see a wise man tricked by 
 a boy. I have spoken." 
 
 Longuant rose. "My brother s voice speaks 
 the truth," he said, gathering his robes to leave 
 me. "My brother sent his words, even as he 
 flung his spear at Pemaou, straight at the mark. 
 Only one word goes astray. My brother is not 
 the free man he vaunts himself. He is tied by 
 hate; " and pushing out his lip till his huge nose 
 pendant stood at a right angle, he went on his 
 way to be my willing, but entirely unhoodwinked 
 agent. 
 
 I went to my canoes, stumbling a little, for 
 I was tired. It was dark now, and the fires
 
 THE BEGINNING 75 
 
 glowed brazenly, so that the Indians showed 
 like dancing silhouettes. The sky was cloud 
 less, and to the east lay a band of uncertain 
 light that meant the rising moon. This was 
 the time that I had planned to use in action, and 
 the knowledge that I was powerless to accom 
 plish anything myself made me so irritable that 
 I could not bear to speak even to Pierre and the 
 men. I sent them to a distance, and sat down 
 on the sand so torn and frayed by anxiety that 
 I was like a sick man. 
 
 And here, after long minutes, Singing Arrow 
 found me. She came running down the beach, 
 slipping on the rolling pebbles, and careless 
 either of her grace, or of the noise she made. 
 
 "And you sit here doing nothing!" she cried, 
 quite as a white girl might have done. 
 
 I pushed her down on the sand. "Stop!" 
 I said. " I knew you would seek me here. Now 
 answer briefly. Pemaou and his men would not 
 let you get near the window?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "They had seen you with me," I explained. 
 "I feared it. Did Longuant and his men 
 come ?" 
 
 "Like bees," she answered, with a fling of 
 her arms. They are everywhere. We can do 
 nothing; " and she dropped her head in her 
 arms and cried.
 
 76 MONTLIVET 
 
 Now what indeed could be her motive ? 
 "Never mind, Singing Arrow," I said experi 
 mentally. "What is it to you, after all?" 
 
 She wriggled her head to throw me a wrath 
 ful look. "I always win at a game," she mum 
 bled. 
 
 She was as hard to read as a purring cat, but 
 that did not matter. "We ve not lost yet," I 
 said, as slowly and coolly as if I did not see the 
 disk of the moon looking at me. "I sent Lon- 
 guant there. I was sure that Pemaou would 
 keep you away, and I am playing for time. So 
 long as the Ottawas and Hurons are squabbling 
 with one another, Cadillac will not deliver the 
 prisoner. But we must get them farther away. 
 Singing Arrow, I have brandy in my cargo. I 
 have drawn off two large flasks. Could you 
 carry them to the other end of the camp, and 
 send word among the braves?" 
 
 Now this was a contemptible thing to suggest ; 
 but any one who stoops, as I was letting myself 
 do, to use a cat s-paw to work out his ends will 
 surely soil his fingers. The sword is the clean 
 weapon. I felt that even this Indian would 
 look at me with disdain, but she did not. She 
 thought a moment, then wagged her head in 
 assent. 
 
 "But I promised Father Carheil not to drink 
 any brandy myself," she added defiantly, as
 
 THE BEGINNING 77 
 
 if she feared I might protest, and I felt myself 
 as low as the hound that I had kicked that day 
 because it would have stolen a child s sagamite. 
 
 "Make haste!" I cried, in a fury with my 
 self, and with the speeding time. " Tell the pris 
 oner to saunter away from the door, to pass the 
 largest fire, and then to go straight through the 
 old maize field toward the timber. I will be wait 
 ing there." 
 
 "I can do it," she vaunted, and she gathered 
 the brandy under her blanket, and ran like a 
 quail, while I went to my red-topped giant. 
 
 "Pierre Boudin," I cried, with my hand on 
 his collar, "if we get back to this place alive, 
 you are to marry that Ottawa girl; to marry her 
 fairly with priest and book. Remember that." 
 
 My man turned a complacent eye. "If the 
 master wishes," he said dutifully. Then he 
 gave a fat chuckle. "I promised to marry her 
 when we came back if she would save the Eng 
 lishman, but then I thought that we should 
 go home the other way." 
 
 Why try to teach decency to a barnyard brood ! 
 I dusted my fingers free from the soil of him. 
 "I will marry her to you, if only to see her flout 
 you," I promised vengefully. "Now to the 
 canoes, and have your paddles ready." I had 
 no smile for him, though he sought it, as I walked 
 away.
 
 78 MONTLIVET 
 
 The moon had swung free of the horizon, and 
 cabins and trees stood out as if made of white 
 cardboard. The night was chilly, and as I 
 crept along the edge of the maize field, I caught 
 my numbed toes on the stiffened clods of earth 
 turned up by last year s plowing. Yet I moved 
 silently, and by keeping in the shadow of black 
 ened stumps and withered maize stalks, I reached 
 bow-shot of the commandant s door. 
 
 Truly one part of my plan had succeeded. 
 The house was the centre of an ant-like swarm 
 skurrying here and there, apparently without 
 method, but with a jerkiness of movement that 
 suggested attack and recoil. I could distinguish 
 the nose pendants of the Ottawas and the brist 
 ling crests of the Huron s. It was a crew with 
 choice potentialities for mischief. Cadillac was 
 justified in feeling that his scalp sat but unstead 
 ily upon his head. 
 
 I had given Singing Arrow fifteen minutes to 
 hide her brandy and send word to the braves, 
 and I counted off the time to myself, trying to 
 numb my anxiety. But among savages news 
 runs underground as well as over, and I had 
 scarcely covered half the space that I had set 
 for myself before the crowd began to disappear. 
 It slipped away like water between the fingers, 
 and in a moment there remained only the guards, 
 Pemaou, and a few Ottawas. The guards,
 
 THE BEGINNING 79 
 
 relieved from immediate anxiety of a riot, 
 leaned listlessly on their muskets, the Ottawas 
 would not interfere with a girl of their own tribe, 
 and Pemaou could not watch all quarters at 
 once. Now was certainly the time to act; but 
 where was Singing Arrow ? My inaction pressed 
 on me like a hideous weight. It seemed days 
 instead of hours that I had sat like a crone by 
 her distaff and let others do my work or fail 
 to do it. Why was Singing Arrow so slow to 
 come ? 
 
 I thought that I had not shifted my gaze from 
 the house for more than an instant; but now, as 
 I watched the door, I learned, and not for the 
 first time, that a white man should have a score 
 of eyes instead of two when it comes to watching 
 an Indian. For the commandant s door sud- 
 denly opened, and out came a blanket-draped, 
 skin-clad figure. My muscles stiffened. It was 
 the Englishman. Singing Arrow had brought 
 him the clothing, and I had not seen. 
 
 So the moment had come. I gripped my 
 sword as one turns instinctively to the friend 
 loved best. Would the prisoner act his part ? 
 So keen was my anxiety, that I felt my spirit 
 leap out to stand by his side, and I shut my teeth 
 upon the cry of encouragement that welled within 
 me. 
 
 But he needed no help of mine. He made his
 
 80 MONTLIVET 
 
 way leisurely past the great fire, walking with 
 wonderful mimicry of a woman s gait, and he 
 kept his face well in the shelter of the blanket 
 in a way that suggested coquetry rather than 
 disguise. 
 
 And in this manner he came straight to me. 
 He came, unerringly as a sleep-walker, past 
 fires, past Indians, and through the gaunt rows 
 of maize. He looked neither to right nor left, 
 and no one molested him. He came to where 
 I stood silent, and put out his hand to touch 
 mine. 
 
 "It is done," he said quietly. 
 
 His fingers were warm, and his touch tingled. 
 1 marveled. "It is a miracle," I said. 
 
 He looked at me in question. Your hand is 
 very cold. Monsieur, monsieur, did you fear for 
 me so much?" 
 
 I bowed. Yes. I did not think it could be 
 done. You are an able man, monsieur." 
 
 He did not answer for a moment, and he fol 
 lowed me silently along the edge of the maize 
 field. Then he touched my shoulder. 
 
 " Monsieur, how strange the world looks 
 to-night. The moon, have you ever seen it 
 so remote and chill ? Oh, we are puppets ! No, 
 it was not my wit that carried me through. It 
 was Fate. Life has been hard on me. She is 
 saving me now for some further trick she has to
 
 THE BEGINNING 81 
 
 play. I pray that it may not bring you ill, mon 
 sieur." 
 
 I knew not how to answer, for I was moved. 
 As he said, the moon made the world strange. 
 Great beauty is disturbing, and the night was like 
 enchantment. He had come to me like a dream 
 spirit in his woman s dress. I felt the need of a 
 dash of cold water on my spirit. 
 
 You must not put on woman s fancies with 
 your petticoats, monsieur," I cautioned over my 
 shoulder. "Now we had best not talk till we 
 are safe afloat in the canoes." 
 
 The men were ebon, the canoes vague gray, 
 and the water like sheet ice under the moon. 
 The Englishman and I crept across the pebbles 
 with panther feet, and the splash of a fright 
 ened otter was the only sound. I laid my 
 "finger on my lips, and my men checked their 
 breathing. We were silent as figures in a mir 
 ror. I tapped the Englishman on the shoul 
 der, and motioned where he should sit in the 
 canoe. 
 
 And then, from the timber fringe behind us, 
 came a call. "Singing Arrow! Singing Arrow ! 
 Stop! Stop!" 
 
 Sword unsheathed, I dashed across the open 
 space of moonlight toward the trees. Who 
 called, or why, I did not question. But I must 
 smother the noise. "Singing Arrow!" the call
 
 82 MONTLIVET 
 
 came again, and the roar of it in the quiet night 
 made my flesh crawl. 
 
 I had not taken two strides into the timber 
 when I saw a man running toward me. He 
 was still calling. I leaped upon him, winding 
 an arm about his neck, and covering his mouth. 
 He was a small armful ; a weazened body to have 
 sheltered so great a power of lung. 
 
 "Hush! For the Virgin s sake, hush!" I 
 stormed in noisy whispers. " Father Carheil, is 
 it you? Hush! Hush!" I dropped my hand 
 from his mouth. "Now speak in whispers," I 
 implored. 
 
 The father shook his cassock free from my 
 fingers. My embrace had been fervid, and his 
 cassock was rumpled, and his scant hair was 
 stringing wildly from under his skullcap. But 
 shrunken and tumbled as he was, he was im 
 pressive. With some men, if you disarrange 
 their outer habit, you lower their inner dignity 
 as well. It was not so with Father Carheil. 
 
 He looked at me closely, with a sober gentle 
 ness that became him well, and that he did not 
 often use. " Why should I go quietly ? " he asked. 
 " My errand is righteous. It is only black work 
 that needs the cover of a silent tongue. My 
 son, you are letting your men abduct Singing 
 Arrow. Did your promise to me count for so 
 little in your mind ?"
 
 THE BEGINNING 83 
 
 I bowed, and mumbled something meaning 
 less to gain time. I was not clear as to my 
 course. "Why do you think that we have Sing 
 ing Arrow ?" I blurted out finally. 
 
 "Pemaou told me." 
 
 Pemaou again! But we had tricked him. I 
 grinned with joy to think of him with his nose 
 still rooted close to the deserted hole. I could 
 almost forgive him for the trouble he was caus 
 ing now. 
 
 "Pemaou lied," I said cheerfully. "Sing 
 ing Arrow is not with us, Father Carheil. Will 
 you go back now ? My mission is urgent and 
 demands secrecy." 
 
 He looked at the ground. You swear to 
 this ? You swear that Singing Arrow is not 
 with you?" 
 
 I laid my hand on my sword, and bared my 
 head. "I swear." 
 
 He turned away. You seem a gentleman," 
 he said reluctantly. "I regret that I troubled 
 you. I wish you fair winds, monsieur." 
 
 Beshrew me, but the man could get close 
 to my heart. Thank you, father," I cried 
 earnestly. "I \vish that I might requite your 
 trust with greater candor. But, in the end, I 
 hope to justify my means. I would that I might 
 have your blessing on my mission and my 
 cargo."
 
 84 MONTLIVET 
 
 Blockhead that I was, not to have let well 
 enough alone. For I was to blame for what 
 followed. I may have grown unconsciously rhe 
 torical, and waved my hand in the direction of 
 the canoes. I do not know. I do know that 
 at the word "cargo" Father Carheil turned and 
 looked toward the shore. There, in my canoe, 
 with gaze searching the timber where I had dis 
 appeared, stood a figure, a woman s figure in 
 Singing Arrow s dress and blanket. 
 
 Father Carheil looked at me. He did not 
 speak; it was not necessary. I endured his 
 gaze for a moment, then sold my prudence to 
 save my honor. I laid my finger on the priest s 
 arm. 
 
 "Come with me to the canoes," I demanded. 
 " If you find yourself in the wrong, it may teach 
 you to trust a man s word against your own 
 eyesight." 
 
 He assented. We walked swiftly across the 
 moon-lighted open, and I had scant time for 
 fear. Yet I was afraid. I could give the Eng 
 lishman no helping hand, no word of warning. 
 Would he rise to the moment ? 
 
 He did. He turned his back upon us, Indian- 
 fashion, and squatted in his blanket. He lost 
 all suggestion of Singing Arrow s slim elasti 
 city, and sat in a shapeless huddle. I laughed 
 with relief.
 
 THE BEGINNING 85 
 
 "Where is Singing Arrow now?" I twitted 
 the priest. "Is this she ?" 
 
 The old priest peered. "No," he meditated. 
 "No, this is not Singing Arrow." He wheeled 
 on me with one of his flashes of temper. "I 
 cannot recognize this girl. Let her take off her 
 blanket." 
 
 I motioned my men to take stations in the 
 canoes. "Father Carheil, I beg you to let me 
 go at once," I implored. You see you were 
 wrong. As to this Indian, you never saw her; 
 she is a stranger here." 
 
 But the father was not pacified. "Let her 
 take off her blanket," he repeated, with all the 
 aimless persistency of age. 
 
 Did I say that the man had grown close to 
 my heart? Why, I could have shaken him. 
 -But the Englishman cut the knot. He turned 
 with a hunch of the shoulder, and peered at us 
 over the corner of his blanket. Gesture, and 
 roll of the head, he was an Indian. I was so 
 pleased at the mimicry, that I gave way to wit 
 less laughter. 
 
 " Now ! " I cried triumphantly. " Now, are you 
 satisfied ?" 
 
 But the priest did not reply. He stared, and 
 his eyes grew ferret-sharp. Then he shifted his 
 position, and stared again. It beat into my 
 brain that he had lived thirty years among the
 
 86 MONTLIVET 
 
 Indians, and that his eyes were trained. He 
 could see meanings, where I saw a blank wall. 
 
 "This is no Indian woman," he said slowly, 
 with a wagging forefinger that beat off his words 
 like the minute hand of Fate. "This is this 
 is why, this is the English prisoner!" 
 
 He brought out the last words in a crescendo, 
 and again my hand clapped tight against his 
 mouth. 
 
 "Be still! Be still!" I spluttered wildly, and 
 I threw a disordered glance at the horizon, and 
 at my astonished crew. I had not meant that 
 the men, except Pierre, should be taken into 
 the secret until we were well afloat. Here was 
 another contretemps. 
 
 "Are you mad, Father Carheil!" I began, 
 with a sorry show of dignity, while my palm 
 stuck like a leech against his lips. ; This is 
 not " - 
 
 "Not any one but the prisoner himself," in 
 terrupted the Englishman s voice. He dropped 
 his blanket, arid sprang to the sand. "Do not 
 lie for me, monsieur," he went on in his indolent, 
 drawling French that already had come to have 
 a pleasant quaintness in my ears. " Monsieur, let 
 me speak to the father." 
 
 If Nature had given me a third hand, I should 
 have used it to throttle the Englishman. "Get 
 back in the canoe!" I stormed.
 
 THE BEGINNING 87 
 
 He motioned me away. Standing slim and tall 
 in Singing Arrow s dress, he put me such 
 creatures of outward seeming are we ab 
 surdly in the wrong, as if I had been rude to a 
 woman. 
 
 "Father Carheil," he began, "your ears at 
 least are not fettered. Listen, if you will. This 
 man is not to blame. I was thrown in his way, 
 and he took me from pity, to save my life. Now 
 that I am discovered, I will go back to prison 
 w r ith you. Let this man -go west. Whatever his 
 business, it is pressing." 
 
 With two mad men on my hands, I had to 
 choose between them. I dropped the priest, and 
 gripped the Englishman. 
 
 "If you go back, I go with you! " I raged in 
 his ear. Then I turned to Father Carheil. 
 "Are you going to report this, father? It is as 
 the Englishman says. I take him as the only 
 way to save him from torture. May we go ?" 
 
 The father thought a moment. "No," he 
 said. 
 
 I gripped my sword. You have seen tor 
 ture, Father Carheil. Would you hand this man 
 over to it?" 
 
 The father looked at me as if I were print for 
 his reading. "I am piecing facts together," he 
 said, with unmoved slowness. "Singing Arrow 
 is in league with you, for the prisoner is wearing
 
 88 MONTLIVET 
 
 her clothes. The Indians are wild with brandy, 
 which, it is rumored, Singing Arrow furnished. 
 The brandy must have come from you. Is that 
 so ? Answer me. Answer, in the name of the 
 Holy Church. Is that so?" 
 
 I bowed. You are a logician," I said bit 
 terly. " Father, I can hear the tom-toms. It is 
 a miracle that we have escaped undetected so 
 long. Our respite cannot last many minutes 
 longer. May we go?" 
 
 My tone seemed to reach him, and he wavered 
 a moment. "Perhaps," he began haltingly; then 
 he backed several paces. "No!" he cried, all 
 his small wiry figure suddenly tense. "No! 
 You are a dangerous man. You carry brandy, 
 and no one knows your errand. If I let you 
 go, I may save one man from torture, which, 
 after all, is but an open door to the blessed 
 after life, but I shall be letting you carry 
 brandy and perdition on to scores of souls. 
 No." And he opened his mouth to call for 
 help. 
 
 But I was on him before his shout could frame 
 itself to sound. I drew my handkerchief, and 
 tied it, bandage-firm, across his mouth. Then 
 I called to Pierre, and bidding him bring me 
 thongs from our store in the canoe, I proceeded 
 to bind the priest firmly. He was slight as a 
 woman in my hands. I could feel the sharp-
 
 THE BEGINNING 89 
 
 ness and brittleness of his old bones through 
 his wrinkled skin, and I was sick at myself. "I 
 am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry," I heard 
 myself repeating, explaining to him, and to my 
 self, and, mostly, to the God who judges us. I 
 looked at the wonderful mobile old face, with 
 all its weakness, and all its wonderful white good 
 ness, and hated myself for laying hands of vio 
 lence on such a man. "I am sorry," I cried 
 again. I looked at the spit of land that sepa 
 rated us from the camp, and the light from the 
 fires glowed red above it. The din of dogs and 
 men swelled high. Something was happening. 
 I glanced down at the priest, but turned away 
 quickly, for I had no stomach for what I had 
 done. 
 
 They will find you soon," I said, with my 
 throat tightening. "God knows I m sorry." 
 
 Then I dashed to the canoes. "Quickly!" I 
 cried, and I shoved the Englishman down be 
 hind me, that I might not have to see even the 
 glint of his red blanket to anger me by thought 
 of what I had sacrificed. 
 
 In a moment, our paddles were dipping. I 
 looked back at the settlement. "It is done!" 
 I cried under my breath, and I could not forbid 
 a moment of exultation. I glanced at the Eng 
 lishman. 
 
 But I met no exultation there. The man s
 
 90 MONTLIVET 
 
 strange eyes were still grave. "No, monsieur, it 
 is just begun," he corrected, and I thought, as 
 I saw his look at the retreating shore, that he 
 shrunk from the uncertainties ahead more than 
 from the death behind. Was there a coward 
 streak in him, after all ? I turned my back, and 
 did not speak again.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 PARTNERS 
 
 To paddle by day, to work in sun and breeze, is 
 a pastime, but to paddle by night drains a man s 
 endurance. For long hours our canoes nosed 
 their way around headland after headland and 
 along wild shores peopled by beasts and shadows. 
 The black water was a threat and a mystery, 
 and the moonlight was chill, so that our limbs, 
 which should have bounded with red blood, 
 were aching and leaden with the cold. I stretched 
 myself with relief when the red-streaked horizon 
 told me it was time to land and make camp. 
 
 I was prepared for pursuit, but knew that, with 
 Pierre in one canoe and Labarthe in the other, 
 we must be well in advance of it. Now I pur 
 posed to stop and hide. It is more to my taste 
 to be hound than hare, and I do not like an 
 enemy snapping at my heels. So I prepared to 
 land. Once the pursuing canoes had passed us 
 we could take up the chase on our own part and 
 follow at leisure. 
 
 I called the word to the other canoe, and then 
 as we swung shoreward I turned to look at the 
 Englishman. All night I had heard no sound
 
 92 MONTLIVET 
 
 from him, nor glanced his way. My thoughts 
 of him had been bitter, for he was a sore weight 
 on my hands. Yet this I knew was unjust, and 
 I was shamed for my own bad temper. My sur 
 liness must have pricked him, as he sat silent 
 through the long hours of dark and cold; and 
 now that the approaching sun was putting me in 
 a better humor, I could see that I had been hard, 
 and I determined to speak to him fairly. 
 
 And so I turned, puckering my lips to a smile 
 that did not come easily, for my face was stiff 
 and my spirit sore. But I might have spared 
 my pains. The prisoner was asleep. He lay in 
 a chrysalis of red blanket, his head tipped back 
 on a bundle of sailcloth, his face to the stars. 
 He was submerged in the deep slumber where 
 the soul deserts the body and travels unknown 
 ways. Judged by his look of lax muscles and 
 surrender, he had lain that way for hours, the 
 hours when I had been punishing him with my 
 averted glance. 
 
 I woke him with a hand on his shoulder. 
 You slept well," I accused. 
 
 He shivered under my hand and opened his 
 eyes. It took him an instant to recognize me, but 
 when he did he smiled with relief. I could not 
 but see that there was something pleasant in his 
 smile. I saw, too, that sleep had wiped the lines 
 from his face, and given him a touch of color.
 
 PARTNERS 93 
 
 "Did I sleep? Did I really sleep?" he mar 
 veled. "Monsieur, you are very good to me." 
 
 But I was in no holiday humor, so only 
 shrugged, and told him to unload the bales. He 
 smiled again, nodding, and jumped to the shore 
 with buoyancy that was an affront to our numbed 
 muscles. But once at work he was as useless as 
 a sailor in a hayfield. He could lift nothing, 
 and he was hopelessly under foot. I bade him 
 stand aside, and I prayed for patience. After 
 all he was young, and had been through great 
 hardship. I would spare him what I could for 
 a time. 
 
 It is depressing to work in a cold dawn on an 
 empty stomach. Our landing had been made 
 at the mouth of a rivulet, and we followed it till 
 we found a place, some quarter mile inland, that 
 was open enough for a camp. Here bale by bale 
 we brought the cargo, piling it under trees and 
 covering it with sailcloth. The canoes we put 
 bottom up in the open, that the sun might dry 
 them. I left Pierre hidden at the shore to watch 
 the horizon for our pursuers, and the rest of us 
 proceeded to breakfast. 
 
 It was cheerless. When I say we made a 
 camp it is misleading, for we could not swing 
 our kettles for fear of the betraying smoke. We 
 sat down stiffly, for the ground was still wet 
 from the night dew, and we passed our bags of
 
 94 MONTLIVET 
 
 dried maize and jerked meat from hand to hand. 
 I made some ado to eat cheerfully, for I saw that 
 the men were surly from this unnecessary hard 
 ship. The western Indians were friendly, and if 
 we had not had this incubus of an Englishman 
 on our hands we should have had fire and song, a 
 boiling pot, and roasting maize cakes. There was 
 no muttering among the men, for I was there, 
 but they looked glowering, and drew away. 
 
 The Englishman ate in silence. I was too 
 ruffled and crossgrained to talk to him, but 
 I could not keep myself from watching him. 
 His eyes were less sad than I had thought. I 
 could imagine that they might easily be merry. 
 But they were watchful eyes. He saw the dis 
 content among the men, and finally he rose and 
 went to them. I followed him with some warn 
 ing in my look, for I thought that he was vexed, 
 and I knew that his tongue was sharp, but I 
 realized in a moment that his brain was in con 
 trol and that he was safe. 
 
 "I have brought you all discomfort," he said, 
 with a shake of the head, and his slow French 
 gave his words more meaning than they perhaps 
 deserved. "I regret this. It is hard for me to 
 bear, for it is new to me to be a burden. But 
 what can I do? I cannot go away. I am not 
 enamored of this voyage, for I do not like being 
 thrust upon your company, but you saved my
 
 PARTNERS 95 
 
 life, and I have no right to throw away what you 
 went to such lengths to preserve. What would 
 you have me do?" 
 
 The oafs exchanged glances. They spoke 
 after a minute in a united, disjointed grumble. 
 
 " You don t work." 
 
 The Englishman looked at them and at me. 
 I realized that he was curiously slight and young, 
 and that we seemed hostile. That was hardly 
 just, and I was ready to go to his rescue. But 
 he turned from me to the men. 
 
 "It is true that I work very badly," he said. 
 "I do not know how. But men are born of 
 women, and --well, what a man can do I can 
 learn. Suppose, now, that I go and relieve 
 Pierre at the watch. If you will show me what 
 to do I think you will find me teachable. I 
 shall try to be as little of a burden as possible. 
 Here is my hand on it." And he held out his 
 slim palm for their grasp. 
 
 Again they stared; but the hand won them. 
 They touched it fumblingly and were impressed. 
 They were a slow lot, selected for various pur 
 poses other than wit. Their minds moved too 
 sluggishly for swift reactions, and I dismissed 
 anxiety about them from my mind. 
 
 The Englishman turned to me. "Will you 
 conduct me to the shore ? I will take Pierre s 
 place."
 
 96 MONTLIVET 
 
 It was my turn to stare. "Suppose you con 
 duct yourself," was on my tongue, but I let it 
 escape unsaid. "Come, then," I answered, with 
 a shrug. 
 
 I led the way over logs and under bushes, 
 and the Englishman followed silently; silently 
 at least as to his tongue, but his feet were gar 
 rulous. They stepped on twigs, stumbled on 
 slippery lichen, and shouted their passage for 
 rods around. 
 
 "I would rather lead a buffalo in tether," I 
 fretted, and just as I said it he completed the 
 sum of his blundering by catching his toe in a 
 root and plunging head foremost to the ground. 
 I pulled him up by the sleeve of his skin blouse 
 and shook him free from loam and twigs. 
 
 "Now will you stop that?" I cried. 
 
 He looked at me gravely, unabashed, but cu 
 rious. " I did not fall purposely to irritate you. 
 Gravity, which, I understand, operates alike on 
 the learned and the foolish, had some share in it. 
 Why are you angry?" 
 
 "Why are you reckless? You have crashed 
 through here as careless of noise as a stag with 
 the hounds hot behind." 
 
 He dropped to the ground, and took one slim 
 moccasined foot in his hand. He looked at it 
 soberly. "It seems a small thing, does it not, 
 to cause so much ill-will between us? It has
 
 PARTNERS 97 
 
 neither weight nor mental force above it, that it 
 should make the earth tremble. No, monsieur, 
 you are searching for excuses for your annoyance 
 with me. You are annoyed all the time. I vex 
 you by my silence, still more by my speech. We 
 are to be some time together, and I do not want 
 to be a constant canker. Is it not possible for 
 you to forget me, to ignore me ?" 
 
 I saw he was in earnest. "And so you really 
 do not know what irritated me ? Are you so 
 little of a woodsman ?" 
 
 " I have never traveled through the woods." 
 
 I gave him a dubious glance. Yet you were 
 weeks with the Hurons after your capture." 
 
 I saw him set his teeth hard as if at a memory. 
 "We traveled by water ways. I was little on 
 the shore except at night." 
 
 A sudden picture sickened me. The nightly 
 camp and this slender lad with his curious air of 
 daintiness, and the great oily Hurons lounging in 
 the dirt and smoke. 
 
 "Were they cruel to you ?" I broke out. 
 
 He shook his head. "No," he said, with the 
 air of justice I had liked in him heretofore; "no, 
 they were not cruel. Indeed they were almost 
 kind, in that they left me a great deal alone. I 
 feared from the clemency they showed me that 
 they were reserving me for torture." 
 
 I eyed him with some skepticism. "It was
 
 98 MONTLIVET 
 
 not the Hurons, but their rivals, the Ottawas, 
 who would have sent you to the stake," I ex 
 plained curtly. "The Hurons -- those of the 
 Baron s band -- would have held you as a hos 
 tage, perhaps as a deputy." 
 
 He looked up with interested eyes. You are 
 playing some political game, and these tribes are 
 your counters. I should like to understand." 
 
 I examined his look, but could make nothing 
 of it. You will pardon me, monsieur," I said 
 with a shrug, "but these are troublous times, and 
 I find it hard to believe you as ignorant as you 
 seem." 
 
 He still met my look. "And if I were not 
 ignorant?" he asked. "Could I, one English 
 man, alone and unarmed, accomplish anything 
 that would hurt you ? You see that I am harm 
 less. Why not be friends ? " 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders. 
 
 "So you are determined that I am a secret 
 ambassador," he meditated. "Well, I must act 
 my part with dignity. And you think we can 
 not be comrades? I dislike to irritate you as 
 I do." 
 
 I answered him soberly. "We will be part 
 ners," I agreed; "friends for the night s bivouac, 
 willing to help and to share." 
 
 "But you will not trust me?" 
 
 I looked away. "What would a truce be-
 
 PARTNERS 99 
 
 tween us mean ? You are English, I, French. 
 Be assured that sooner or later the fox eats the 
 hen." 
 
 He laughed. "Who is to be the fox?" He 
 jumped to his feet. "Partners, then, it shall be. 
 A strange creed. A helping hand to-day and a 
 knife in the back to-morrow. But I shall follow 
 you, monsieur." 
 
 "You will follow?" 
 
 "In this path as in others. If you refuse to 
 admit even a truce between us, I agree. I 
 shall keep out of your way as much as possible. 
 Only - - I would not have you think me ungrate 
 ful." 
 
 I could never forbear a smile when he was 
 serious. "We shall probably think very little 
 about each other," I said comfortably. " Once 
 settled into routine we shall have work to fill 
 our thought. You will learn to do your share. 
 I think you willing." 
 
 "Indeed I am willing, monsieur." 
 
 "Good. So we shall work hard, sleep early, 
 and the months will pass before we know. Let 
 us not talk of trust or friendship, since our ways 
 are divided." 
 
 He bowed. You are right, monsieur. And 
 I meant only this, I will try not to be an irri 
 tation. You will try not to think of me as such. 
 You agree?"
 
 100 MONTLIVET 
 
 I smiled again. :< Yes. Partners for the 
 night," I reminded him. "I am gratified, Mon 
 sieur Starling, that you see the matter so rea 
 sonably. There is a gulf between us, and we 
 cannot change it." We did not speak again till 
 we reached Pierre at the shore.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 WESTWARD 
 
 WHERE were the pursuing Indians ? For two 
 days we watched, and the water was unflecked 
 by sign of life. We listened in the murk of night 
 and strained our eyes in the sun s dazzle. But 
 we found nothing but forest and sky and mys 
 tery. We were alone with our shadows. 
 
 The forty-eight hours crawled. Except at 
 noonday we were chilled, our stomachs com 
 plained of the cold food, and our minds, and 
 therefore our bodies, were sluggish. The Eng 
 lishman had the best of it, for he could sleep like 
 a bear in winter. Save for the hours when he 
 was on watch he knew but little of what was 
 passing. He lay on the warm side of the bank 
 and slept with his face to the sun. 
 
 At the end of two days I felt that I had paid 
 all reasonable due to Prudence, and could follow 
 Inclination and be comfortable. 
 
 "We shall push on at daybreak to-morrow," 
 I told the men. "Hang the kettles. To-night 
 we shall have a boiling pot." 
 
 Truly a fire makes home of a wilderness. We 
 sat with our heels to the blaze, and grew jovial.
 
 102 MONTLIVET 
 
 The Englishman said little, but was alert to 
 serve us. 
 
 "It is salt to the broth to have it given me by 
 a pretty squaw," I told him as he filled my bowl 
 a second time. 
 
 He flushed with anger, and I thought myself that 
 it was a cheap jest and unworthy. He had been 
 considerate to wear his disguise without complaint. 
 
 " I shall find something for you to wear when 
 we shift our cargo to leave," I promised him, 
 and since my mood was still mellow, I looked 
 him over with a smile. He had smoothed and 
 rounded in a wonderful manner in his two days 
 of rest, and I was pleased by the red in his 
 cheeks. You will soon be a second Pierre if 
 you sleep and eat in this fashion," I laughed at 
 him, " and then there will be no room for you in 
 the canoe. If all your countrymen sleep as you 
 do, it is small wonder that they have left us un 
 disturbed in the beaver lands." 
 
 He smiled a little in deference to my small 
 jest, but the next instant he looked away. "I 
 had not slept in weeks," he said softly, as if 
 ashamed of his excuse. 
 
 That shamed me, and I came to my feet and 
 let my bowl of broth spill where it would. 
 
 "Sleep well, lad. You are safe with us," I 
 cried, and I left my meal unfinished, and went 
 to the hidden cargo. Then and there I would
 
 WESTWARD 103 
 
 find proper clothing for the Englishman. I had 
 been slothful in the matter. 
 
 The clothing was stored deep, and I was bend 
 ing to the search with some shortness of breath, 
 when the Englishman touched my shoulder. 
 
 "Is it clothing for me?" 
 
 I handed him a blanket coat for answer. " It 
 is large, but warm," I said, and bent again to my 
 task. 
 
 Still he kept a hand on my shoulder. "Mon 
 sieur, I am satisfied with my dress." 
 
 I could be putty in his hands one moment and 
 scorn him the next. "Nonsense!" I snapped 
 over my shoulder. 
 
 But he clung like a gnat. "It is not nonsense. 
 Stop a moment and listen to my reasons." 
 
 I drew myself up reluctantly. "Well?" 
 
 He stood with arms akimbo, his head to one 
 side. "It is as plain as a pikestaff. In this 
 dress I can go where you cannot. I can recon 
 noitre for you. In your man s coat I should be 
 grotesque, for it is twice my size. I should be 
 noticeable and draw comment on us. As it is, I 
 can go unobserved." 
 
 Now this was partly true. " But the presence 
 of a woman would discredit our canoes," I ob 
 jected. 
 
 He turned this over. "A woman would dis 
 credit your party?"
 
 104 MONTLIVET 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 "But no one sees you but the Indians." 
 
 "They report to the priests." 
 
 "And you care what the priests think ?" 
 
 "I care for the good name of my company. 
 Monsieur, do you like to wear a squaw s 
 dress?" 
 
 He laughed. "Why not? I like women. 
 Why scorn their garb ? But I see your reasons, 
 monsieur. They are better than mine. So get 
 out the clothing, though I shall look like an 
 eel in a bear s skin." 
 
 But I had lost my haste. Mock woman that 
 he was, he was yet somewhat pleasant to the eye. 
 I had noticed more than once the picture that 
 he made as he came and went among the trees. 
 Yet I thought lightly of myself for enjoying the 
 deceit of my eyesight. I rose. 
 
 "Wear your skirts, then, for a few days lon 
 ger," I said coldly. "It is too dark to find what 
 I want. Come now. We must sleep early, and 
 be up betimes, for we shall take up our journey 
 in the morning." 
 
 We were astir at daybreak. It was a red 
 morning, and the birds were singing. The air 
 was keen, but the fire snapped cheerfully, and 
 the sky gave promise of a warm day. We car 
 ried the bales to the beach, and were ready for 
 the canoes. Then I missed the Englishman.
 
 WESTWARD 105 
 
 He had been aloof and moody during breakfast, 
 and I searched for him with some alarm. 
 
 1 found him in the hollow where he slept at 
 night; he would not sleep near the rest of us, 
 saying that we disturbed him with our snoring. 
 He was on his back, his gaze on the tree-tops, 
 and he was frowning heavily. 
 
 I broke through the bushes. "You are ill!" 
 
 He jumped to his feet. "No, no, monsieur! 
 Ill only in mind. Monsieur, I have failed you." 
 
 I had never seen his aplomb so shaken. " Why 
 were you lying on the ground ?" 
 
 "To find out whether I could see again what 
 I saw last night. Do you see that balsam, the 
 one with the forked top ? Monsieur, I saw an 
 Indian s face in that tree last night." 
 
 I took his hands, which were cold. "Now 
 tell me." 
 
 He drew his hands away. " I am often awake 
 in the night. Last night the moon was clear. 
 All at once I saw an Indian s face looking out 
 from that tree." 
 
 "And you did not call me!" 
 
 "Monsieur, I thought it must be fancy. I 
 have troubled dreams. I often since my cap 
 ture think I see an Indian, and it proves to 
 be nothing but a bush. So I distrust my eyes, 
 especially at night. Then Frai^ois was on 
 watch, and several times he walked this way.
 
 106 MONTLIVET 
 
 If it had really been an Indian would not Fran- 
 9ois have seen ?" 
 
 I pointed him to the forest. "Do you see 
 anything ? We seem alone, yet there are count 
 less eyes watching us, from the squirrel over your 
 head to the Indian who may be listening now. 
 When you lay on your back just now did you see 
 anything that looked like a face?" 
 
 He shook his head. " No, the space was open. 
 But, monsieur, I have been over the ground. I 
 can find no track." 
 
 I went to the balsam and examined it. Then 
 I called the Englishman and pointed to a patch 
 of rubbed lichen on the bark above our heads. 
 " His foot slipped. What was he like ? How 
 was his hair dressed?" 
 
 He gasped a little. "Monsieur, it could not 
 have been a real Indian. The rubbed moss, - 
 why, an animal could have done that. As to 
 his appearance, it was strange. His head was 
 shaved on one side, and he had long braided 
 hair on the other. Surely it was a dream." 
 
 I laughed. "Come, Starling, the canoes are 
 waiting." 
 
 "Monsieur, did you ever see an Indian shaved 
 in that way?" 
 
 I nodded. "Many times." 
 
 "Monsieur, monsieur! What kind of Indi 
 ans?"
 
 WESTWARD 107 
 
 "It is a Huron mode." 
 
 "Then we have been followed?" 
 
 I shrugged. "Evidently. I do not under 
 stand their game, but they will declare it soon 
 enough. Come, Starling." 
 
 But he lingered. "Monsieur, I blundered. I 
 should have waked you." 
 
 I stopped to lay a hand on his shoulder. 
 "And you will blunder again if you waste 
 strength in regrets. Come, a hangdog look means 
 a divided mind, and I need your wits. Keep 
 what watch you can, and we shall say nothing 
 of this." 
 
 The men had carried the canoes to the beach, 
 and now sat beside them, drumming their heels 
 in idleness. This gave me excuse for rating 
 them, and I did it with force of lung. Thinking 
 that there were Indians or, at least, an Indian 
 in hiding, I hoped to draw them from cover 
 in this fashion. But my brave periods rattled 
 uselessly. The forest kept its springtime peace, 
 and all that I got out of my display of spirit was 
 the excitement of playing my part well to an 
 unseen audience. We were allowed to load our 
 canoes in peace. 
 
 And more, we were allowed to depart. I was 
 prepared for a flight of arrows as a parting 
 courtesy, but none came. Well, I could make 
 nothing of the situation. I stored the inci-
 
 108 MONTLIVET 
 
 dent away as something to remember, but not to 
 distress myself about. The men sang as they 
 dipped their blades. I sang, too, when I could 
 get the tune. It was a fine morning, and my 
 blood was astir. I saw the Englishman s color 
 rise under the whip of the quick motion and the 
 keen air. He did not speak unless I addressed 
 him, but his look was almost happy. I could 
 not help liking it in him that he should enjoy 
 the freedom of our journeying, and should feel 
 the majesty of the untraveled waters. I saw that 
 he was trying, as he promised, not to intrude upon 
 my notice, and I wondered a little what he would 
 be saying to me now if I had answered him other 
 wise, and had said that we could be friends. 
 Perhaps I had cut myself off from pleasant in 
 tercourse. He certainly had gayety of spirit, even 
 if he somewhat lacked in strength of head. 
 
 We paddled only till mid-afternoon. I was 
 as eager to meet the western Indians as I had 
 been anxious to avoid those we left behind, and 
 now my object was to invite attention. It was 
 the season for beaver and otter trapping, and 
 I hoped to encounter hunting parties, so we 
 landed, made camp in the open, and piled our 
 fire till the smoke blurred the sky. 
 
 The spirit of the afternoon was toward idle 
 ness. We fished some, but loitered more, and 
 I had no word of reproof for the men for using
 
 WESTWARD 109 
 
 hours of good daylight playing the dish game 
 they had learned among the Ottawas. I heard 
 them stake their patrimony in this world, and 
 their hopes of the next, on the throw of the 
 black and yellow balls, but I smoked my pipe, 
 and let them brag and squabble. The bees 
 were droning, the sun lay warm on my back, and 
 the forest was at peace. Two years before, I 
 remembered, I had worn lace and periwig on 
 this day, and had stood in his majesty s ante 
 chamber. Now I was gaunt and rusty as a bear 
 in spring. I looked at the secret forest, the 
 uncharted water, and at my smoke-grimed men 
 squatting like monkeys over a savage game, and 
 I smote my knee with content. Truly it was a 
 satisfying thing to live while the world afforded 
 such contrasts! And if I played my present 
 cards with skill, there might be a still greater 
 contrast in store for me when next I stood in 
 that ante-chamber and heard my name carried 
 within. But that thought made me restless, 
 and I went in search of the Englishman. 
 
 The Englishman had sat apart from us 
 since we landed, and now I found him with his 
 back against a rock ledge looking at the water. 
 I was in a mood when I had to wag my 
 tongue to some one and ease myself of some 
 spreading fancies. So I dropped down beside 
 him.
 
 110 MONTLIVET 
 
 "Monsieur," I began by way of introduction 
 to my theme, "are you indeed a yoeman ?" 
 
 He looked up with an excess of solemnity. 
 "No, monsieur." 
 
 This was not the answer I had expected, 
 though, in truth, I had given the matter little 
 thought. "Then you are a gentleman?" I 
 asked, deflected from my intended speech. 
 
 He shook his head. "No, monsieur, no gen 
 tleman." 
 
 I did not like his hidden play with words, 
 although I understood it. That is a farce!" I 
 said unkindly. " It is folly to say that in your 
 Colonies you will have no caste. You cannot 
 change nature. Can you make a camel of a mar 
 moset ? I asked you what you were born ?" 
 
 He smiled. "I was born an English subject. 
 Monsieur, I have answered three questions. You 
 owe me three in turn. Did you ever know 
 Robert Cavelier?" 
 
 I stared. " The Seigneur de la Salle ? " 
 
 "The same." 
 
 I stared again. "He has been dead for eight 
 years. What do you, an Englishman, know of 
 him?" 
 
 He gave a wave of the hand. "It was my 
 question," he reminded. "I asked if you knew 
 him." 
 
 I could not but be amused. How he liked
 
 WESTWARD 111 
 
 to play at mystery! I would copy his brevity. 
 "Yes," I replied. 
 
 He looked up with much interest. "So you 
 knew him. Tell me, monsieur, was he mounte 
 bank and freebooter, or a gallant gentleman 
 much maligned?" 
 
 I removed my hat. "He was neither. He 
 was an ambition incarnate; an ambition so vast 
 there were few to understand it, for it had no 
 personal side. You said the other night that 
 but few motives rule men. La Salle has been 
 misunderstood because the usual motives greed, 
 the love of woman, and the desire for fame did 
 not touch him. He was the slave of one great 
 idea, and so he was lonely and men feared him." 
 I finished with some defiance. I knew that the 
 blood had risen in my cheeks as I spoke, for 
 some subjects touch me as if I were a woman. 
 The Englishman was watching me, and I dis 
 liked to have him see what I felt was weakness. 
 But he did not scoff. His own cheeks flushed 
 somewhat, and he looked off at the water. 
 
 "La Salle had more than a great idea," he 
 said meditatively. "He had great opportunity. 
 He desired to found an empire in the west, did 
 he not, monsieur? Well, he failed, but, per 
 haps, that was accident. He might have suc 
 ceeded. It is not often in the history of the 
 world that such an opportunity comes to any
 
 MONTLIVET 
 
 person, man or woman. La Salle, at least, 
 tried to live up to his full stature. Monsieur, 
 how pitiable it would be, yes, more, how ter 
 rible it would be, to have such an opportunity 
 thrown in your way and know that you were 
 too weak to seize it." 
 
 His voice rose to some earnestness, but I was 
 ashamed of my own emotion, and so threw 
 pebbles at the water and kept my mood cold. 
 I suspected that through all this random philo 
 sophizing I was being probed, probed by an 
 Englishman who ate my rations, and wore a 
 squaw s dress. I grew angry. 
 
 "Who are you? I demanded roughly. 
 "Who are you, that you know of La Salle and 
 of his plans, and use the French speech. Can 
 you, for once, answer me fairly, or is there no 
 sound core of honesty in you?" 
 
 He rose. But he replied, not to what I had 
 said, but to what I had thought. "It is true 
 that I share your food and your escort, and 
 that I requite you but poorly. Yet I must re 
 mind you again, I share it under compulsion. 
 I cannot be entirely open with you, are you 
 open with me ? but I will tell you all that it 
 is necessary for you to know, all that touches 
 you in any way. I said that I was a colonist. 
 It was the truth, but I had been but a year in 
 the Colonies at the time of my capture. I was
 
 WESTWARD 113 
 
 born in England, and I have passed some time 
 in France. As to La Salle, I know nothing 
 of him save what any man might hear. Is it 
 strange that I should be interested in him now 
 that I find myself following in his steps ? Why 
 do you always see a double meaning in my 
 words, monsieur?" 
 
 I filled my pipe, and answered truthfully, "I 
 do not know." 
 
 But here he began to laugh. "Monsieur, 
 forgive me, but truly I forget at times that I am 
 a spy, that you distrust me. You are kind and 
 I am interested, and so I grow careless of the 
 fact that I am in a land where no speech is idle, 
 where every glance is weighed. This life must 
 unfit one for court talk, monsieur." 
 
 What was he after ? I eyed him over my pipe 
 bowl, but said nothing. I was minded to tell 
 him to clean the whitefish for our supper, but 
 reflected in time that he would undoubtedly do 
 it badly, so I spoke to Francois instead. But 
 when I would have gone away the Englishman 
 followed. He clapped me lightly on the shoulder, 
 a familiarity he had not ventured before, and he 
 put his head on one side with a little bantam 
 swagger. 
 
 "If I am an enemy, I am an enemy," he 
 bowed. "Yet one question, please, and I swear 
 in the name of our joint father Noah that I ask
 
 114 MONTLIVET 
 
 it with the fairest motives in mind. Tell me 
 something of what we are going to do. Is to 
 day a sample?" 
 
 I could not hold my ill-temper. He must have 
 led a psalm-singing youth that every attempt at 
 rakishness should make him as piquant as a fig 
 ure at a masque. 
 
 "Yes," I replied. "To-day is a sample except 
 that we have been indolent this afternoon. 1 
 made this a semi-holiday as a sop to the men for 
 the added burden I have laid on them. I wish 
 to do some exploring along the coast here, and 
 we shall have to spend some time hunting. If 
 you show yourself capable I shall leave you in 
 charge of the camp while we are away." 
 
 This time he bowed gravely. "Thank you, 
 monsieur. I have not been blind to the way 
 you have spared me hardship, but when I said 
 that I would do whatever you would teach me, 
 I meant it. I think that I shall make a good 
 woodsman in time." 
 
 But I laughed. You wash yourself too 
 much ever to make a good woodsman," I told 
 him, and I set him to measuring the meal for 
 our supper, for indeed his hands were well kept, 
 and it was pleasant to see him handle the food.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 I WAKE A SLEEPER 
 
 WHAT enchantment came upon the weather for 
 the next week I do not know. May is often some 
 what sour of visage, but now she smiled from 
 dawn till starlight. We paddled and hunted 
 and slept, well fed and fire- warmed. It was 
 more like junketing than business, and we were 
 as amiable as fat-bellied puppies. Even the 
 Englishman looked content. We left him in 
 camp when we went to hunt, and on our re 
 turn he had a boiling pot and hot coals ready 
 for our venison. I saw that he had won favor 
 with the men. Yet he kept aloof from all of us, 
 as he had promised. 
 
 This had gone on for a week, when one day, 
 after we had placed the Englishman on guard 
 and were tramping back into the timber to see 
 what our eyes and muskets could find, Pierre 
 pointed to a bent tree. "It looks like a cow s 
 back," he ruminated. Trees are queer. To 
 day, where we made camp, I saw a tree that 
 looked like a Huron with his topknot." 
 
 I stopped. "Where?" 
 
 " I told the master. Near the camp."
 
 116 MONTLIVET 
 
 "You think it was a tree?" 
 
 Pierre shuffled. "There are no Hurons here. 
 This is the Pottawatamie country. But I have 
 thought about it all day. It was a queer tree. 
 Shall I go back and see?" 
 
 I shook my head. I pointed to a stale bear 
 print, and set the men upon it. Then I turned 
 and slipped back to camp. 
 
 I walked with uneasiness in my throat. Why 
 did a Huron dog us in this fashion ? Was he 
 alone ? Did he mean mischief to the English 
 man ? Was the Englishman in league with him ? 
 Too many questions for a slow man. I felt en 
 trapped and befogged. I must see for myself. 
 And so I crept to the camp to spy upon it. 
 
 I have never seen sweeter spot for an anchor 
 age than we had found that day. We had not 
 camped on the open coast as had been our cus 
 tom, but in a sun-warmed meadow a few paces 
 inland, where there were birds, and tasseling 
 grasses, and all kinds of glancing lights and 
 odors to steal into a man s blood. I parted 
 the trees. The blur of gray ashes from our fire 
 was undisturbed; our canoes lay, bottom up 
 wards, waiting to have the seams newly pitched, 
 and the cargo was piled, untouched, against a 
 tree. All was as we left it. And there, in the 
 shade of a maple, lay the Englishman, asleep 
 on his scarlet blanket.
 
 I WAKE A SLEEPER 117 
 
 I went softly, and looked down at him. I 
 ought to have waked him, and rated him for 
 sleeping at his post, but I could not. It was 
 balm to find him here safe. He was twisted like 
 a kitten with his head in his arm, and I noticed 
 that his dark hair, which he kept roughly cut, 
 was curly. He must have been wandering in 
 the woods, for he had a bunch of pink blossoms, 
 very waxy and odorous, shut tight in his hand. 
 I looked at him till I suddenly wanted him to 
 wake and look at me. I picked a grass stalk, 
 and, leaning over, brushed it against his lips. 
 
 He woke as a child does, not alert at once, 
 but with drowsy stirrings, and finally with open 
 eyes so sleep-filled that they were as expression 
 less as a fawn s. He stared as if trying to remem 
 ber who I was. 
 
 I sat beside him. "I am the owner of that 
 cargo you are guarding," I supplied to aid his 
 memory, and then laughed to see the red flood 
 his face when he came to himself and realized 
 what he had done. But I was not at ease. 
 He had shivered and drawn back when he 
 first opened his eyes. Could he be afraid of 
 me ? I should not wish that. I tried to be 
 crafty. 
 
 "Who did you think I was when you first 
 woke ? " I asked, taking my pipe and preparing 
 to be comfortable.
 
 118 MONTLIVET 
 
 He pushed back his hair. "Benjamin," he 
 answered vaguely. He was still half asleep. 
 
 "But you told me your name was Benjamin!" 
 I put down my flint and tinder. 
 
 He met my look. "I have a cousin Benja 
 min, as well," he rejoined. "I was dreaming of 
 him. Monsieur, I am humiliated to think that 
 I went to sleep. I have never done so before." 
 
 My pipe drew well, and I did not feel like 
 chiding. "It does not matter," I said, with a 
 yawn. "You must not take it amiss, monsieur, 
 if I confess that, as a guard, I have never con 
 sidered you much more seriously than I would 
 that brown thrush above you. What is your 
 posy?" and I leaned over and took the flowers 
 from his hand. 
 
 He smiled at me drowsily. "The arbutus," 
 he explained, with a lingering touch of his finger 
 upon the blossoms. " Smell them, monsieur. I 
 found them in Connecticut last spring. Are 
 they not well suited to be the first flowers of 
 this wild land ? Repellent without, see how 
 rough the leaves are to your finger, but fra 
 grant and beautiful under its harsh coating. 
 Life in the Colonies grew to seem to me much 
 the same." 
 
 I turned the flowers over, and considered his 
 philosophy. "You are less cynical than your 
 wont, monsieur," I reflected. "May I say that
 
 I WAKE A SLEEPER 119 
 
 I like it better in you ? Cynicism is a court 
 exotic. It should not grow under these pines." 
 
 He put out his hand to brush a twig from my 
 doublet. "Cynicism is often the flower of bit 
 terness. Monsieur, you have been very good to 
 me. I cannot keep in mind my constant bitter 
 ness against life when I think of the thoughtful- 
 ness and justice you have shown me." 
 
 I jerked away. "Sufficient! Sufficient! Let 
 us be comfortable," I expostulated, and I turned 
 my back, and gave myself to my pipe and si 
 lence. 
 
 The birds sang softly as if wearied, and the 
 earth was warm to the hand. I held the flowers 
 in my fingers, and they smelled, somehow, like 
 the roses on our terrace at home on moonlight 
 evenings when I had been young and thought 
 myself in love. I watched a drift of white but 
 terflies hang over an opening red blossom. Such 
 moments pay for hours of famine. It disturbed 
 me to have the Englishman rise and go away. 
 
 "Why do you go?" I demanded. 
 
 He came back at once. "What can I do for 
 you, monsieur ? " 
 
 His gentleness shamed my shortness of speech. 
 "It was nothing," I replied. "The truth is, it 
 was pleasant to have you here beside me." I 
 laughed at my own folly. " Starling, I will put 
 you in man s dress to-morrow!" I cried.
 
 120 MONTLIVET 
 
 He turned away. "As you like, monsieur. 
 I think myself it would be best. Will you get 
 out the clothes to-night?" 
 
 But I stared at him. "Why blush about it, 
 Starling?" I shrugged. I felt some disdain of 
 his sensitiveness. "I did not mean to twit you. 
 I understand that you have worn the squaw s 
 dress to help us. But I think that the necessity 
 for disguise is past. I see the skirts embarrass 
 you." 
 
 He turned to look at me fairly. "I am not 
 blushing, monsieur," he explained, with a great 
 air of candor. "It is the heat of the afternoon;" 
 but even as he spoke the red flowed from chin 
 to forehead, and when I looked at him with an 
 other laugh, his eyes fell before mine. 
 
 I rose on my elbow. "Starling! Starling!" I 
 cried. He made no sound. His head drooped, 
 and I saw him clench his hand. I stared. He 
 threw his head back, but when he tried to meet 
 my look he failed. Yet I looked again. "My 
 God!" I heard my voice say, and my teeth bit 
 into my lip. I could smell the flowers in my 
 hand, but they seemed a long distance away. 
 "My God!" I cried again, and I rose and felt my 
 way into the woods with the step of a blind man.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 MARY STARLING 
 
 I DO not know how long I walked, nor where, 
 but the sun dropped some space. When I re 
 turned to the camp, I found the men before 
 me. They had returned early, empty-handed, 
 and were in an ill humor because the English 
 man was away, and there was nothing done. I 
 commanded Pierre to build a larger fire than 
 usual, and keep it piled high till I returned. 
 Then I began a search for footprints. 
 
 They were easily found. The young grass 
 crushed at a touch, and it was child s work 
 to pick out the moccasin track across the 
 meadow. When the steps reached the beach 
 they were harder to follow. I lost them for a 
 while, though there were scattered pebbles that 
 would have led me straight as a homing pigeon, 
 had I been cool enough in mind to have my eyes 
 and wits as sharp as usual. As it was, I doubled, 
 and squandered time, until the sun began to 
 loom red near the horizon. And all the time I 
 was saying to myself, "It is not true. It is not 
 true." 
 
 The windings of the track puzzled me. It
 
 122 MONTLIVET 
 
 would go straight into the forest for a space, then 
 double sharply, and come back to the beach. 
 It came to me at last that the wish to hide pulled 
 the steps into the timber, and that the fear and 
 solitude of the great woods speedily drove them 
 out again. Then I determined to pay no atten 
 tion to these detours, but push along the beach. 
 And doing this, I speedily came upon the red 
 blanket flung down in the shelter of a rock, and 
 its owner resting upon it. 
 
 When I saw that all was well, I became sud 
 denly exhausted, and went forward slowly. I 
 reached the red blanket, and looked down. Yes, 
 all was well. A hunting knife lay in an open 
 bundle. I stooped and seized it, and hurled 
 it far into the water, and then I asked, rather 
 huskily, a question that had not been in my 
 mind at all:- 
 
 "What is your name?" 
 
 "Mary Starling." The woman had risen, 
 and stood with her hands pressed tight against 
 her throat ; the look she gave me was the saddest 
 I had ever seen. " Monsieur, you wrong me. 
 The knife that you threw away was for my pro 
 tection, for my food." 
 
 I stood over her. "You swear this?" I said, 
 breathing hard. 
 
 She held her head high. "Monsieur, I am 
 a coward in many ways, but not in this. Life is
 
 MARY STARLING 123 
 
 bitter, but I will live it as long as the Powers 
 please. I will take what comes. Even among 
 the Indians I was not tempted to to that." 
 
 You would have died. Starved here in the 
 wilderness, if I had not found you." 
 
 " Perhaps, monsieur. Yet I gave myself what 
 chance I could. I took some food, a fishing 
 line, and that knife." 
 
 "Why did you leave me?" 
 
 "Monsieur!" 
 
 "I say, why did you leave me?" 
 
 " Monsieur, what else could I do ? I would 
 have discredited you. Those were your words. 
 A woman would discredit our canoes." 
 
 "Yet you were you were a woman all the 
 time." 
 
 "Not in your eyes, monsieur." 
 
 I gripped her hand. "Did the Indians sus 
 pect?" 
 
 " Never for a moment." 
 
 "Yet when they captured you" 
 
 "I was in man s dress. I - - I was trying to 
 defend the blockhouse. The men had had 
 -had"- 
 
 I seized her in my arm, and made her drink 
 from my brandy flask. In a moment the color 
 came back to her lips, and she drew away. 
 
 "I have never done this before," she explained 
 unsteadily. "Never since my capture. I sup-
 
 124 MONTLIVET 
 
 pose it is because because you know. And 
 so I cannot play the man. Monsieur, believe me. 
 I would never have come with you, never, if I 
 had not felt sure of myself. Sure that I could 
 play my part, and that you would not know. I 
 I tried, a little, to make you understand there 
 at the commandant s, and when I saw that you 
 were really blind I thought that I was safe. Be 
 lieve me, monsieur." 
 
 I handed her my flask. "Drink more," I 
 commanded. I took the blanket and wrapped 
 it around her though the air was still warm. 
 "You must not let yourself have chills in this 
 fashion if you would save your strength. Ma 
 dame, I believe nothing about you that is not 
 brave and admirable. Are you Madame Star 
 ling, and is Benjamin your husband that you 
 took his name to shield you, and even repeated 
 the name in your dreams?" 
 
 She looked at me, and I felt rebuked for 
 something that had been in my tone. "I am 
 unmarried," she said steadily. "Benjamin Star 
 ling is a cousin. Monsieur, there is nothing left 
 either of us but to let me go. Oh, if I could live 
 this day over and be more careful! How was 
 it, how was it that I let you know ?" 
 
 I walked away. A frightened mink ran across 
 my feet, and I cursed at it. Then I walked 
 back.
 
 MARY STARLING 125 
 
 "You did not let me know," I said, and I 
 stooped to pick up her bundle. "I know no 
 thing. I was always the blindest of men. Come, 
 Monsieur Starling, let us go back to camp." 
 
 Again she put her hands to her throat. You 
 mean that?" 
 
 I took the bundle in my arm. " It is the only 
 way. Come, monsieur." 
 
 "I cannot." 
 
 "I think that you must." 
 
 "And can we go on as before?" 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders. "We can try. 
 Come, Monsieur Starling, the men are growling, 
 for you should have made the fire. Remember, 
 you strayed into the woods and lost your way. 
 Come, come, you must do your part." 
 
 She looked at me, and a sudden dry sob 
 shook her. "Forgive me, monsieur!" she cried. 
 "Yes, I will come." She tried to square her 
 shoulders. "I must get my spirit back before 
 I can meet the men in camp. Why am I such 
 a coward!" 
 
 I dropped the bundle that I might take both 
 her hands. "Mademoiselle," I said, "look at 
 me. We are puppets in this matter. You have 
 been thrown into my hands against my will and 
 your own, and I sw r ear to you that I will deal 
 with you as fairly as I have strength. But you 
 must play your part. So long as I treat you as
 
 126 MONTLIVET 
 
 a woman you will be a coward. Therefore I 
 must be harsh with you. You have great will 
 and can endure loneliness of soul. I must thrust 
 you back upon yourself. There must be no 
 woman in the camp. Come, monsieur, let us 
 not talk of this longer. Are you ready ?" And 
 not waiting for assent, I led the way back to 
 camp without word or look; I even kept myself 
 from putting out a helping hand when I heard 
 the steps behind me falter and almost fall. 
 
 As we came to the fire and met the men. I 
 found myself fingering my sword. But it was 
 a useless motion. The oafs saw nothing amiss, 
 though to me the very air was shouting the secret. 
 We had a fat larder, broiled whitefish and bear- 
 steak from the kill of the day before, and the 
 men were thinking much of their stomachs and 
 not at all of the Englishman, save when they 
 turned their backs upon him to show that he 
 was out of favor. So we sat down to meat. We 
 sat a long time, while the twilight faded and 
 the stars pricked out clear, and there was little 
 talk between us. I was sitting at meat with 
 a woman, a woman of my own class, and I 
 dared not offer her even the courtesy that one 
 may show a serving maid. Well, I would take 
 what each day might bring and not look ahead. 
 I would think nothing about this person, as 
 man or woman, but would fill my thought with
 
 MARY STARLING 127 
 
 the purpose that had brought me to the beaver 
 lands. I told the men to be early astir that we 
 might make a longer day of travel on the mor 
 row. 
 
 The morrow was gray. The wind was in the 
 east, and the sunrise watery and streaked with 
 slate-colored bands. The water was clammy and 
 opaque, repellent to touch and sight. The way 
 looked dreary, and the woman carried her head 
 high, as if in challenge to her courage. She had 
 risen early, and had gone through her trifling 
 share in the preparations, and though she had 
 avoided me, I could see that she was ready to 
 play her part. 
 
 We paddled on our knees that morning, for the 
 waves were choppy. By ten o clock the bands 
 of cloud had merged into a dun canopy, and by 
 noon a slow, cold rain was drizzling. I dreaded 
 a halt, but the necessity pressed. I selected a 
 small cove, well tree-grown, and we turned our 
 canoes inland. 
 
 Fortunately the rain, though persistent, had 
 been gentle, and had not penetrated far under 
 the heavy foliaged pines. We selected a clump 
 of large trees, chopped the lower branches, and 
 scraping away the surface layer of moss and 
 needles found dry ground. Here we piled the 
 cargo in two mounds, which we hooded with 
 tarpaulins and with our overturned canoes.
 
 128 MONTLIVET 
 
 Our provisions were snug enough; it was our 
 selves who were in dreary estate. 
 
 It rained all the afternoon, stopped for a half 
 hour at sunset, when the sky, for a few moments, 
 showed streaks of red, then closed in for a night s 
 drizzle. I had built what shelter I could for 
 the woman out of boughs covered with sheets 
 of paper birch and elm. I had made a similar 
 shelter for myself that I might not seem to dis 
 criminate too much in favor of the Englishman, 
 and had told the men to do the same. But they 
 were indolent, and stopped at chopping a few 
 hemlock boughs, which they laid across crotched 
 aspens. In truth, our shelters accomplished little 
 against the cold and wet. Do what we could, we 
 had great discomfort, and morning found the rain 
 still dripping and the sky still unbroken gray. 
 
 And so it went for three days. The north 
 country has such storms in the spring, and they 
 chill all beauty out of the woods. We could 
 do nothing. We kept what fire we could, re- 
 gummed the seams of the canoes, and for the 
 rest ate, sulked, and tried to sleep. The men 
 gambled among themselves, and I grew weary 
 of the click, click of their balls and the sound 
 of their stupid boasts and low jesting. Yet I 
 had no ground for stopping them, for the wo 
 man understood almost nothing of their uncouth 
 speech. Indeed, she was little in sight or hear-
 
 MARY STARLING 129 
 
 ing. She stayed in her bark shelter, and I could 
 hear her moving about, trying to keep it neat 
 and herself in order. In those three days I 
 learned one secret of her spirit. She had a 
 natural merriment that did not seem a matter 
 of will power nor even of wish. It was an in 
 stinctive, inborn content, that was perhaps partly 
 physical, in that it enabled her to sleep well, and 
 so to wake with zest and courage. By night 
 her eyes might be dark circled and her step 
 slow, but each morning there was interest in 
 her looks to see what the strange day was about 
 to bring. I had seen this nature in men many 
 times ; I had not thought that it belonged to wo 
 men who are framed to follow rather than to look 
 ahead. 
 
 For twenty-four hours we held little more in 
 tercourse than dumb people, but the second day 
 she came to me. 
 
 "Monsieur, would you teach me?" she asked. 
 "Would you explain to me about the Indian 
 dialects ? " 
 
 I agreed. I threw her a blanket, which she 
 wrapped around her, and we cowered close to 
 the bole of a pine. I took birch bark and 
 a crayon and turned schoolmaster, explaining 
 that the Huron and Iroquois nations came of 
 the same stock, but that most of the western 
 tribes were Algonquin in blood, and that, though
 
 130 MONTLIVET 
 
 they had tribal differences in speech, Algonquin 
 was the basic language, as Latin is the root of all 
 our tongues at home. I took the damp bark, and 
 wrote some phrases of Algonquin, showing her 
 the syntax as well as I had been able to reduce 
 it to rule myself. She had a quick ear and the 
 power of attention, but after an hour of it I tore 
 the bark in pieces. 
 
 "We will not try this again," I told her 
 roughly, and we scarcely met or spoke for the 
 next day. 
 
 The fourth morning came without rain, and 
 the sun struggled out. We built great fires, 
 dried our clothing, repacked the canoes, and 
 were afloat by noon. By contrast it was plea 
 sant, but it still was cold, and we stood to our 
 paddling. I wrapped the woman in extra 
 blankets, and made her swallow some brandy. 
 I hoped that she would sleep, but she did not, 
 for it was she who called to us that there were 
 three canoes ahead. 
 
 It showed how clogged I was by sombre 
 thought that I had not seen them, for in a 
 moment they swept in full sight. I crowded 
 the woman down in the canoe, and covered her 
 with sailcloth. Then I hailed the canoes with 
 a long cry, "Tanipi endayenk?" which means, 
 "Whence come you?" and added "Peca," that 
 they might know I called in peace.
 
 MARY STARLING 131 
 
 The canoes wheeled and soon hung like wa 
 ter birds at our side. They were filled with a 
 hunting party of Pottawatamies, and the young 
 braves grunted and chaffered at me in high good 
 humor. I gave them knives and vermilion, and 
 they talked freely. I saw them look at the 
 draped shape in the canoe, but I shrugged my 
 shoulders and said, "Ouskouebi!" which might 
 mean either "drunken" or a "fool," and they 
 grinned and seemed satisfied. They promised 
 to report to me at La Baye des Puants, and I 
 saw by their complaisance that the French star 
 was at the zenith. I should have stretched my 
 legs in comfort as I went on my way.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 A COMPACT 
 
 WE paddled that afternoon till the men splashed 
 water into the canoes, which was their way of tel 
 ling me that I had worked them hard enough. It 
 was dusk when we landed, and starlight be 
 fore our kettles were hot. I had been silent, 
 when I had not been fault finding, till, supper 
 over, the woman, leaning across the fire, asked 
 me why. 
 
 " Is something wrong ? " she ventured. " Ever 
 since we met the Pottawatamies you have 
 seemed in haste." 
 
 I looked around. The men were at a dis 
 tance preparing for sleep. "I wish to reach the 
 Pottawatamie Islands before to-morrow night. 
 Mademoiselle Starling, may I talk of our future ? " 
 
 She rose. : You called me mademoiselle." 
 
 Yes, mademoiselle." 
 
 "And you mean" 
 
 I took off my hat. "Will you come with 
 me?" I asked, -"come where we shall not be 
 overheard ? We must talk of our future." 
 
 I knew that she trembled as she bowed her 
 assent, but I pretended to be blind. I led the
 
 A COMPACT 133 
 
 way outside of the circle of light, then waited 
 for her to come to me. I stood with my hat 
 in hand, and my heart cried in pity for the 
 woman, but my tongue was heavy as a sav 
 age s. 
 
 "I learned from the Pottawatamies," I said, 
 "that Father Nouvel is tarrying at their islands. 
 If we haste, we may find him there. Mademoi 
 selle, will you marry me?" 
 
 I do not know that I was cool enough to 
 measure rightly the space of the silence that 
 ensued, but it seemed a long one. The woman 
 stood very still. A star fell slanting from the 
 mid-sky, and I watched it slip behind the ho 
 rizon. The woman s head was high, and I 
 knew that she was thinking. It troubled me 
 that she could think at such a time. 
 
 "Mademoiselle" - I began. 
 
 "Wait!" she interrupted. She raised her 
 hand, and her fingers looked carven white in 
 the moonlight, though by daylight they were 
 brown. "Monsieur, you watched the star. It 
 went into the unknown, a way so wide and 
 terrible that we may not follow it even in thought. 
 We live alone with majestic forces, forests 
 greater than an empire, unmapped waters, and 
 strange, savage men. We are pygmies; yet, if 
 we have spirit we can grow into some measure 
 of the greatness and inflexibility around us.
 
 134 MONTLIVET 
 
 Monsieur, when you asked me what you 
 asked me now you were thinking of France 
 and its standards. Of little, tidy, hedged-in 
 France. You were not Oh, monsieur, I am 
 sorry you asked me that question. Of course 
 I answer no, but but I am sorry that you 
 asked it." 
 
 I went to her. "You are cold. Come with 
 me to the fire. Come. The men are asleep 
 by this time. Mademoiselle, your spirit is steel 
 and fire, but your body betrays you. You are 
 shivering and afraid. Yet Well, made 
 moiselle, pygmies or giants, whichever we may 
 be, we must not scorn counsel. You once called 
 us partners. On that basis, will you listen to 
 me now?" 
 
 "But you must not" 
 
 " Mademoiselle, on that basis will you listen to 
 me now?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then come." I led her to the warmth, and 
 placed her snugly, with logs to pillow her and 
 her face away from the sleeping men. Then I 
 sat beside her. But my speech had left me. I 
 had no reasons, no persuasions at my tongue. 
 
 "Father Nouvel is at the islands," I said. 
 "Mademoiselle, you must marry me. You 
 must." 
 
 "Why must, monsieur?"
 
 A COMPACT 135 
 
 " We cannot travel in this way." 
 "A week ago you thought it possible." 
 " I had not tried it then. It will not do." 
 "Monsieur, what has gone wrong?" 
 I took out my hunting knife and tried its edge. 
 "My mind," I answered savagely. "Mademoi 
 selle, I may, as you say, have tidy, circumscribed 
 France behind my thought, but Well, made 
 moiselle, I was brought up to certain observances 
 in regard to a woman. And I cannot forget you 
 are a woman. When the men speak roughly to 
 you I put my hand on my sword." 
 "I have seen you, monsieur." 
 "And so I lose much thought and time con 
 quering my anger. It fills my thought. When 
 I taught you Indian verbs the other day the rain 
 dripped from your hair. And I sat like a clod. 
 W T hat could I do ? I could not shelter you for 
 fear of rousing suspicion in the men. Made 
 moiselle, I cannot stand it. I must let the men 
 know that you are a woman. And then I must 
 marry you when we reach Father Nouvel." 
 
 She rose. " Monsieur, you must send me back 
 to Montreal." 
 
 I kept my seat. " Mademoiselle, I have your 
 word," I reminded. ; You agreed to listen." 
 
 I had meant to plead, not to rebuke, and I 
 regretted that she flushed. She seated herself 
 lingeringly, but I saw that she leaned back, and
 
 136 MONTLIVET 
 
 did not sit as she had done before with her mus 
 cles braced for flight. 
 
 "Why not send me back to Montreal?" she 
 begged. 
 
 The embers of the fire fell into irregular, 
 rectangular shapes like the stone buildings on 
 the Marne, where I was born. My father had 
 beggared us, but those buildings were left. I 
 scorned my father s memory, but I had strange 
 pride in the name and place that had been 
 his. 
 
 " I have thought over this matter by night and 
 day," I replied slowly. "I cannot send you to 
 Montreal, for I cannot trust these men. If I 
 take you myself I shall lose six weeks out of the 
 summer. Then it will be too late to accomplish 
 anything. No, I cannot afford so much time. 
 The summer is all too short as it is." 
 
 You would marry me marry me to get me 
 out of the way --rather than lose six weeks of 
 time!" 
 
 I rose. "Spare your scorn, mademoiselle. This 
 is no joust of wits. I would sell everything ex 
 cept the honor of my sword --rather than lose 
 six weeks of time." 
 
 Then you have a mission?" 
 
 "A self-sent one, mademoiselle." 
 
 "But you can come again next year.," 
 
 "Next year will be too late."
 
 A COMPACT 137 
 
 She threw out her hands. " Monsieur, try me. 
 Let me travel with you as a man. I will be a man. 
 I will be Monsieur Starling in truth. Try me 
 once more." 
 
 I took her hand. " Mademoiselle, mademoi 
 selle," I said, "think a moment. Would I force 
 you to this marriage would I suggest it even 
 if it did not seem a necessity, a necessity for 
 my own ends ? For I must have my head and 
 hands clear. It is a selfish view. I know that. 
 It is crushingly selfish. But it is for a large pur 
 pose. I am a small man fitted to a great under 
 taking, and I can permit no divided interests. I 
 need an unhampered mind." 
 
 She walked a few steps. "And if I should 
 travel with you as a woman and yet not marry 
 you," she asked over her shoulder, " what then ?" 
 
 I looked away. "I should be obliged to fight 
 every man of my company first, then every white 
 man that we might meet. It would hardly 
 leave me with an unhampered mind, mademoi 
 selle." 
 
 She made no comment with word or eye, and 
 going back to the place where we had been sit 
 ting, she dropped upon the sand. I covered her 
 shoulders with the red blanket, and again sat 
 beside her. I would be silent till she chose to 
 speak. After a time I went back into the forest 
 to search fresh fuel for our fire.
 
 138 MONTLIVET 
 
 When I returned with my arms laden, she 
 turned her face toward me; her sorrowful eyes 
 looked as if she could never again know sleep 
 or forgetfulness. "I am a coward," she said, 
 * yet I thought that cowardice and my desire for 
 life had both died together. I did not draw 
 back from the knives of the Indians, but now I 
 am afraid of a loveless marriage. We are young. 
 We may live many years. Oh, monsieur, I have 
 not the courage!" 
 
 I piled the wood on the fire and did not 
 answer. I stirred the red coals and marked 
 how the flames slipped along the dried branches 
 in festoons of light. Pierre was snoring, and 
 I kicked him till he rolled over and swore 
 in bastard French. Then I went to the wo 
 man. 
 
 "You have won," I said, and I laughed a 
 little, a mean, harsh laugh, my ears told me, 
 not the laugh of a gentleman. "Mademoiselle, 
 you have won. We start toward Montreal to 
 morrow. Then marry whom you will." 
 
 She looked into my eyes. "Wait a moment; " 
 she stopped. " Monsieur, how much time have 
 you spent in learning the Indian dialects and 
 preparing for this expedition?" 
 
 "Two years." 
 
 "And next year will indeed be too late?" 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders. "We waste good
 
 A COMPACT 139 
 
 hours," I suggested. "Mademoiselle, may I say 
 * good-night ?" 
 
 She stepped toward me. "Monsieur, do not 
 spoil your courtesy," she begged. "I asked you 
 a question." 
 
 I smiled at her. "The answer has lost pith 
 and meaning. Yes, mademoiselle, next year will 
 indeed be too late." 
 
 She put her hands before her eyes. "Then I 
 will change my answer. Monsieur, I will marry 
 you when we reach Father Nouvel." 
 
 But I would not reply. I walked to the beach 
 where there were dark and stars. I ground my 
 heel into the pebbles, and I did not hear her 
 moccasined step behind me. She had to touch 
 my arm. 
 
 "I meant it, monsieur," she whispered. 
 
 I raised her fingers, and laid them back against 
 her side. "Why tempt me?" I said rudely. 
 ** Happily for you my word is a man s word. 
 We start toward Montreal to-morrow." 
 
 "Monsieur, I beg you. Go west to-morrow." 
 
 "No, mademoiselle." 
 
 "Then then monsieur, I give you warn 
 ing. If we start toward Montreal to-morrow I 
 shall escape you at the first opportunity, and try 
 my fortune alone in the woods." 
 
 You threaten me?" 
 
 She stood in front of me. " I would bring you
 
 140 MONTLIVET 
 
 to reason. Yes, I threaten you, in that I shall 
 do what I say. Come, monsieur, I will follow 
 you westward. Your years of preparation, your 
 great opportunity, shall not be wasted because 
 of me." 
 
 I took her hand. You are a strange woman. 
 A sage and a child; a woman and a warrior. 
 But I will not marry you, mademoiselle." 
 
 "Why not, monsieur?" 
 
 "Because I will not hoodwink you. So long 
 as I took you blindly against your will, I felt 
 no shame at going about my own ends. But 
 now that you have turned the tables on me and 
 come without force, I cannot let you be a tool. 
 I would not take you without telling you my 
 plans, and then you would not come." 
 
 "I know your plans, monsieur." 
 
 "You know that I hunt beaver." 
 
 "I know that you hunt men. Monsieur, are 
 all the women of your nation puppets, that you 
 should think me blind ? Listen. You plan a 
 coalition of the western tribes. La Salle s plan 
 with changes. You hope to make yourself a 
 dictator, chief of a league of red men that shall 
 control this western water-way. Is not this so, 
 monsieur?" 
 
 "I Yes, mademoiselle." 
 You intend to form your league this summer 
 and advance upon the Iroquois in the autumn
 
 A COMPACT 141 
 
 before the ice locks the lakes. You are in haste, 
 for if you delay another twelvemonth you are 
 convinced that the Iroquois will make a treaty 
 with the Hurons at Michillimackinac, massacre 
 your garrison there, cow the western tribes, and 
 so wrest this country from the French. Is not 
 this so, monsieur?" 
 
 14 Yes, mademoiselle." 
 
 " You see that I understand all this, monsieur. 
 Yet, I will go with you." 
 
 I did not stir. You are acute. Yet there 
 is one point in my plan that you did not men 
 tion," I said dully. 
 
 She turned away. "I hoped to spare us 
 both," she returned in a tone as lifeless as my 
 own. Yet, if you wish words, take them. 
 Monsieur, the Iroquois are allies of the English. 
 Your warfare with them is but a step in pursuit 
 of larger game. In founding an empire for your 
 own land you would take one away from mine. 
 You hope in the end to crush the English on 
 this continent. Have I stated you correctly, 
 monsieur?" 
 
 I bowed. 
 
 She laughed a laugh more bitter than my 
 own had been. " I am indeed the plaything of 
 Fate," she said a little wildly. " But I will marry 
 you. You saved my life. Yes, more. You 
 threw your career into the balance for an un-
 
 142 MONTLIVET 
 
 known man, your foe. You jeopardized all that 
 you hoped for, and you never whined nor lost 
 sleep. You are a superb gamester, monsieur." 
 
 I smiled. "Not enough of a gamester to ac 
 cept your sacrifice, mademoiselle." 
 
 She clenched her hands. "I will marry you," 
 she retorted. You shall follow out your pur 
 pose. Though, after all, you cannot succeed. 
 Who are you ? A dreamer, a soldier of fortune, 
 a man without place or following. You think 
 slowly, and your heart rules your head. How 
 can you hope to wrest an empire from --from 
 us ? You cannot do it. You cannot. But you 
 shall have your chance. You gave me mine 
 and you shall have yours. We go west. Other 
 wise I have warned you, monsieur." 
 
 I seized her wrist, and made her meet my look. 
 "That is a coward s threat," I said contemptu 
 ously. 
 
 I could not daunt her. "I mean it. I mean 
 it, monsieur," she repeated quietly. 
 
 I stood and looked at her. ; You have a 
 man s equity," I said. "You are determined 
 to give me my chance. Well, I will take it, - 
 and remember that you gave it to me. But, 
 would you have me in any way weaken my pur 
 pose, mademoiselle?" 
 
 She looked up with a flash of anger. "Am I a 
 child or an intriguing woman ? No, no. Do
 
 A COMPACT 143 
 
 your best, or your worst, or I shall despise you 
 for your weakness. I have told you that I have 
 scant hopes for your success, monsieur." 
 
 What could I say? I stood before her awk 
 wardly. "Mademoiselle, may I tell you some 
 thing of myself and my people? You should 
 know what sort of name you are to bear." 
 
 But she pressed her hands outward. "No, 
 no!" she cried. "Why tell me?" Then she 
 sobered. " I know that you are brave and kind," 
 she said, with her eyes down. "Beyond that 
 I do not think that I am interested, monsieur." 
 
 I felt angered. ; You should be interested, * 
 I said bluntly. "Well, the night is slipping away. 
 Let me lead you to the fire and bid you good 
 night." 
 
 Her finger tips met mine as we walked back 
 together, but the touch was as remote as the 
 brushing of the pine boughs on my cheek. Yet 
 when I would have handed her her blanket and 
 turned away, she detained me. "Sit with me 
 a little longer, monsieur," she begged. "I I 
 think I am afraid of the woods to-night. Let 
 us sit here a while. " 
 
 I could not grasp her mood, but there was 
 nothing for me but to yield to it. I made her as 
 comfortable as possible, and saw that the fire 
 was kept alight; then I sat near her. I was 
 tired, but time went swiftly. My mind would
 
 144 MONTLIVET 
 
 not have given my body rest, even had I lain 
 down. 
 
 In time the woman leaned toward me. 
 "There is there is no woman who will suffer 
 from this?" she asked slowly. 
 
 I stirred the fire. " I have no wife, mademoi 
 selle." 
 
 "I did not mean that. There is no woman 
 who who cares for you ?" 
 
 "Not to my knowledge." 
 
 " And you and you, monsieur ? There is no 
 one whom you are giving up ? " 
 
 I answered slowly. "Mademoiselle," I said, 
 " you are a strangely wise woman. You know the 
 value of reticence, something few women seem 
 to know. We have talked of many things, of am 
 bition, of justice, of generosity, but never, never 
 of love. Are you wise to open the past in that 
 one matter ? I have asked you no questions." 
 
 She hid her face in her hands. "But I will 
 tell you. I was betrothed to my cousin, to 
 Benjamin Starling. I would not marry him 
 now, I would not marry him now to save him 
 from the rack. I have nothing more to tell you, 
 monsieur." 
 
 I let the moments slip. The east was bright 
 ening, and in an hour it would be dawn. I knew 
 we needed rest. I rose, and, standing behind the 
 woman, bent over her.
 
 A COMPACT 145 
 
 "Mademoiselle Starling," I whispered, "to 
 morrow, at this time, you will be Madame Mont- 
 livet." She did not stir, and I laid my hand 
 on her shoulder where it rose slim and sinewy 
 as a boy s from the low neck of her squaw s 
 dress. I bent lower. ; You strange woman," I 
 went on, marveling at her calm. "You strange 
 woman, with the justice of a man and the tem 
 pers of a child. Have you a woman s heart, I 
 wonder? I do not talk to you of love, but it 
 may be that it will come to us. I will try to be 
 good to you, Mary Starling. Carry that pro 
 mise with you when I say good-night." 
 
 And then she trembled. "Wait, wait, mon 
 sieur! There is one word first. I have tried 
 I have tried to say it." 
 
 I knelt beside her. "What would you say 
 to me, mademoiselle?" 
 
 But she turned away. " Monsieur, monsieur ! 
 I will marry you, yes. But it is to save your 
 hopes, your future. We have we have no 
 love. Monsieur, will you not hold me as your 
 guest, your sister? It is I who would kneel to 
 you, monsieur." 
 
 I pushed her down. "Sit still," I com 
 manded. I turned my back to her, for I had no 
 speech. She did not plead, but I could feel her 
 tremble. I forced words out of me. 
 
 "You are a Protestant?"
 
 146 MONTLIVET 
 
 "Yes, monsieur." 
 
 I picked up the corner of her blanket. " I am 
 a Catholic," I said, drawing away the woolen 
 folds that I might look at her. "In our church 
 marriage is a sacrament, mademoiselle." 
 
 She lifted her great eyes. "Monsieur, our 
 marriage will be no sacrament. It will be a 
 political contract. A marriage a marriage of 
 convenience in name only Surely when we 
 reach home it can be annulled. Must I must 
 I beg of you, monsieur ? " 
 
 I rose and looked down at her. "A strange 
 woman of a strange race," I said. "No, you 
 need not beg of me. I have never had a cap 
 tive in my life, not even a bird. Mademoi 
 selle, you shall bear my name, if you are will 
 ing, for your protection, but you shall go as my 
 guest to Montreal." And I left her in her red 
 blanket and went away.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 WE REACH THE ISLANDS 
 
 THE dawn came with an uprush of unclouded 
 light showing burnished green leaves and dan 
 cing water. I bowed my head to the woman s 
 hand to bid her good-morning, and I served her 
 with meal cakes and sweet water from a maple 
 tree. I was reckless of Pierre s eyes, though I 
 knew them to be weasel sharp for certain sides 
 of life. The woman answered me but scant 
 ily, and when we were embarked sat quiet in 
 the bottom of the canoe. I forbore to look at 
 her. 
 
 The men feared my mood that day, so paddled 
 well. I charged them not to speak nor sing, for 
 I would have no wasted breath, and the sombre 
 shore, pine and tamarack and savage rock, 
 passed before us like pictures dropping from a 
 roll. Toward sunset I sighted a canoe full of 
 warriors, and when we drew near I saw that 
 they were Pottawatamies. 
 
 "Are we near your islands ?" I hailed. 
 
 The men bowed toward the southwest. "The 
 space of the star rising, and you will reach them 
 if you travel," spoke the tallest. "You ride
 
 148 MONTLIVET 
 
 fast. I have seen you come like the white squall 
 on the water." 
 
 I called again. "Does Father Nouvel tarry 
 with you?" I cried. 
 
 I thought that they looked at the maid in the 
 canoe. " He tarries," they answered. 
 
 I gave the signal and we slipped away. "To 
 the shore," I commanded, and the two canoes 
 took new vigor. The men, like stall-fed beasts, 
 spurred themselves by the prospect of eating 
 and idleness, and we were soon at the beach. 
 I bent over the woman. 
 
 "Be prepared," I whispered. "I must tell 
 the men. If I play the clown it is but to im 
 press them, mademoiselle." 
 
 She met my glance with a look of entire un 
 derstanding, and rising gave me her finger tips 
 and stepped from the canoe. I do not know 
 how she turned all in one instant from a sun 
 burned stripling to a great lady, but that was 
 what occurred. The men, stretching themselves 
 as they stepped to the shore, stopped and stared. 
 I saw that I must speak quickly. 
 
 "Let the canoes alone," I said. "We will 
 stop here but a moment. Go all of you 
 and gather green twigs and young ferns, and 
 flowers if you can find them. Then bring 
 them to me here. Go." 
 
 The men stood as jointless as tin images.
 
 WE REACH THE ISLANDS 149 
 
 But I saw that they were not only dumfoimded 
 but afraid, so I laid my hand on my sword, to 
 give them better cause for their stupefaction. 
 "Go!" I shouted again, and so perverse is my 
 nature that, though I knew well I had no cause 
 for merriment, I swallowed hard to keep back 
 a smile. 
 
 The woman and I stood alone while the men 
 jerked their way like automatons from bush to 
 tree. The chaos of their minds had numbed 
 their muscles, and they stripped the young boughs 
 clumsily like a herd of browsing moose. I did 
 not look at the woman. I knew that she needed 
 all my courtesy, but it was hard to speak to her 
 just then. 
 
 The men wandered for perhaps five minutes, 
 then ranged themselves before me. They bore, 
 a curious collection of grasses, mutilated tama 
 rack boughs, and crushed brakes. They eyed 
 my sword hilt, and looked ready for flight. Yet 
 I was master, and they remembered it. Had I 
 ordered them to eat the fodder that they bore, 
 they would not have spoken, and I think that 
 they would have endeavored to obey. 
 
 I pointed to the canoe where the woman was 
 accustomed to sit. "Place the greens there," 
 I said. "Make a carpet of them where the red 
 blanket is lying. Work quickly, then come 
 here. No talking."
 
 150 MONTLIVET 
 
 They obeyed. They dressed the canoe like a 
 river barge on a fete day, and again they lined 
 themselves before me. I took the woman by the 
 hand. 
 
 "You have decked the canoe for my wedding 
 journey," I said, and all my perverse inner mer 
 riment suddenly died. " This traveler, whom you 
 have known as a man, is Mademoiselle Marie 
 Starling and my promised wife. We are to 
 be married when we reach the Pottawatamie 
 Islands. She is your future mistress, and you 
 may come and touch her hand and swear to 
 serve her as faithfully as you have served me. 
 Pierre, you may come first." 
 
 A man who has seen battle knows that the pang 
 of a bullet can clear even a peasant s clogged 
 brain. The churls took this blow in silence and 
 tried to make something out of it. What they 
 made I could not fathom, but it lifted them out 
 of themselves, for after a moment they raised 
 their eyes and came forward like men. I had 
 never seen them in an equal guise; I could 
 have grasped them by the hand had it been 
 wise. 
 
 The woman extended her palm to them, and 
 gave them each a word as they passed in review. 
 She was gracious, she was smiling, yet somehow 
 she was negligent. I was not prepared that she 
 should be used to homage. Perhaps I had
 
 WE REACH THE ISLANDS 151 
 
 thought that this bit of vassalage would give her 
 pleasure. She treated it like an old tale. 
 
 "Enough," I ordered "Pierre, you may 
 draw a portion of brandy all around and drink 
 to the health of your mistress. Then we shall 
 get under way." 
 
 Pierre s portions were always ample, and the 
 western red was dulling by the time we were 
 again afloat. I did not paddle, but seated my 
 self beside the woman on the crushed leaves 
 and watched in inactivity and silence while 
 the starlight came. As the dusk deepened we 
 slipped by strange islands, but I held the canoes 
 straight in advance till a limestone headland 
 rose white out of the blurred, violet water. The 
 star shine showed a deep bay and wavering lights 
 among the trees. I touched the woman s shoul 
 der. 
 
 "The largest of the Pottawatamie Islands," I 
 explained. "I have had maps. Pray God we 
 may find what we seek." 
 
 The canoes bumped and slid upward on the 
 sand, and I left the men on guard, and taking the 
 woman s hand led her toward the lights. A rab 
 ble of dogs trooped upon us and gave tongue, and 
 black shapes, arrow-laden, clustered out of the 
 wigwams. 
 
 " Peca," I cried, in greeting, and again, 
 " Where is your chief ? Where is Onanguisse ? "
 
 152 MONTLIVET 
 
 A French voice answered, "Who calls? * 
 The mat that hung before the entrance of the 
 nearest lodge was pulled aside, and smoke and 
 red light flared out of the opening. I saw the 
 black robe of a priest ! 
 
 "Father Nouvel, Father Nouvel!" I cried like 
 a schoolboy. You are indeed here!" 
 
 The priest stooped to pass through the skin- 
 draped opening, and came peering into the star- 
 light. 
 
 "Who calls Father Nouvel?" he demanded in 
 a mellow voice, rich in intonations. " What, an 
 Indian woman, monsieur! Who are you ? What 
 means this ?" 
 
 I led the woman forward. "Father Nouvel, 
 this is Mademoiselle Starling, an Englishwoman 
 who was captured by the Indians. We have trav 
 eled fast and far to find you. Can you marry us 
 at once ? " 
 
 It was badly done. I had jumbled my speech 
 without wit or address, like a peasant dragging 
 his milkmaid before the village cure. The wo 
 man may have felt my clumsiness. She dropped 
 my hand, and curtsied deeply to the father, and 
 he, staring, checked the hand that he had raised 
 to extend to her, and bowed deeply in turn. It 
 was a meeting, not of priest and refugee, but of 
 a man and woman who had known the world. 
 Father Nouvel was very old and his skin was
 
 WE REACH THE ISLANDS 153 
 
 wrinkled ivory, but at this moment he wore his 
 cassock as if it were a doublet slashed with gold. 
 His command was an entreaty. 
 
 "Come nearer, daughter. I wish to see your 
 face." 
 
 She followed him close to the flaring light that 
 poured from the wigwam, and he looked at her as 
 unsparingly as if she were a portrait of paint and 
 oil. 
 
 "I have never seen you," he decided. ; Yet 
 the name Starling, it is unusual, and it brings 
 troubling memories to my mind." 
 
 The woman deliberated a moment. She was 
 indeed a woman with wit that did not need mine, 
 and I felt it to be so, and I stood at one side, and 
 thought out my own conclusions. She looked 
 up. "At Meudon?" she suggested to the 
 priest. 
 
 He smote his palms together. "I am old," 
 he mourned. " Else I could never have forgotten. 
 At Meudon, of course. It was at a meeting of 
 Jacobites. An exile named Starling he was 
 a commanding man, my daughter was their 
 leader. How did you know?" 
 
 She stood there in her Indian dress of skins 
 with a forest around her and talked of courts. 
 
 "I remembered that you were in Paris three 
 years ago," she explained, "and that our king 
 yes, our king, Father Nouvel, although a king in
 
 154 MONTLIVET 
 
 exile talked sometimes with you. There was 
 often one of your order at the meetings at Meu- 
 don." 
 
 The father looked at her. " I could almost 
 think that age and loneliness have undone my 
 mind," he said slowly. " You talk of kings and 
 courtiers. Who are you?" 
 
 I waited, perhaps more eagerly than the priest 
 himself, for her reply. None came. I thought 
 she gave a flitting look toward me, and so I 
 shrugged my shoulders and thrust myself again 
 into the priest s thought. 
 
 " If we were kings, courtiers, and Jacobites all 
 in one," I said as airily as might be in view of my 
 aching muscles, " the titles would yet clink dully 
 as leaden coins, travel- worn as we are. Can you 
 marry us this evening, Father Nouvel ? " 
 
 He looked at me keenly, not altogether pleased. 
 
 " And you are" - he asked. 
 
 "Armand de Montlivet, from Montreal." 
 
 He relaxed somewhat. "I have heard of you. 
 No, I cannot marry you to-night. I will find a 
 lodge for this demoiselle, and we will talk of this 
 to-morrow. Come now and let me bring you to 
 the chief," and with a beckoning of the hand he 
 led the way into the lodge behind him. 
 
 We followed closely. The lodge was large, 
 and was roofed and floored with rush mats. 
 The smoke hung in a cloud over our heads, but
 
 WE REACH THE ISLANDS 155 
 
 the air around us was sufficiently clear for us 
 to see, though with some rubbing of the eyes. 
 An aged Indian sat close to the blaze, and Father 
 Nouvel walked over to him. 
 
 "Onanguisse," he said, "two strangers lift the 
 mat before your door, strangers with white 
 faces. Do you bid them take broth and shel 
 ter?" 
 
 The old chief nodded. He had lacked curi 
 osity to look out at us while we had stood talk 
 ing before his door, and now he scarcely lifted 
 his eyes. 
 
 "Is the Huron with them?" he asked the 
 priest. 
 
 I pushed forward. "What Huron?" I de 
 manded, in the Pottawatamie speech. 
 
 The chief stirred somewhat at hearing me 
 use his language. "A Huron is in the woods," 
 he said indifferently. "Every one must live, 
 thieves as well as others, but I do not like it that 
 he stole our squashes. When a Huron comes, 
 you will soon see the French." 
 
 I would have asked questions, for I craved 
 more news, but before the words could form, 
 since I am slow, the woman spoke. 
 
 "Nadouk!" she exclaimed. "I understand 
 that word. It means Huron. Are the Hurons 
 pursuing us?" 
 
 Her w T oman s voice echoed oddly in that
 
 156 MONTLIVET 
 
 smoke-grimed place. Onanguisse looked up. 
 I have lived among Indians, and know some 
 sides of their nature, but I am never prepared 
 for what they may do. The old chief stared and 
 then rose. "A white thrush!" he said, and he 
 looked at Father Nouvel for explanation. 
 
 "They come to be married," the priest has 
 tened. "Have you an empty lodge for the 
 maiden?" 
 
 Onanguisse listened, then walked to the wo 
 man, and looked at her as he would study a 
 blurred trail in the forest. She bore his scrutiny 
 well, and he grunted approval. Now that he 
 had risen he was impressive. He was tall, and 
 had that curious, loose-jointed suppleness that, I 
 have heard women say, comes only from gen 
 tle blood. As he stood beside Father Nouvel it 
 came to me that the two men were somewhat kin. 
 One face was patrician and the other savage, 
 but they were both old men who bore their years 
 with wisdom and kept the salt of humor close 
 at hand. The chief turned to me. 
 
 "To marry? It is the moon of flowers, and 
 the birds are mating. It is well. The white 
 thrush shall sleep in my lodge to-night. I will 
 go elsewhere. Come," and pointing to the door, 
 he would have driven the priest and myself out 
 side without more words. 
 
 I glanced around. The lodge was unex-
 
 WE REACH THE ISLANDS 157 
 
 pectedly neat, and though I dreaded to leave 
 the woman in the smoke, I knew it was unwise 
 to protest. Would she be willing to stay ? She 
 was often ruled by impulse, and it would be like 
 her to clamor for the clean starlight. I told her, 
 in short phrase, what the chief had said. "And 
 I beg you to show as little repugnance as pos 
 sible," I added. 
 
 She listened without showing me her eyes, 
 which were always the only index I had to what 
 was in her mind. 
 
 "Thank the chief for his hospitality," she 
 rejoined, and she looked toward Onanguisse, 
 and bowed with a pretty gesture of acceptance. 
 Then she walked over to me. 
 
 "When you thought me a man," she said 
 hurriedly, and in a tone so low that only I could 
 hear, "you trusted somewhat to my judgment, 
 
 even though you saw me fail. When you 
 found me a woman, you trusted less, arid since 
 
 since you arranged to marry me, you have 
 assumed that I would fail you at every turn. 
 Ours is a crooked road, monsieur, and there are 
 many turns ahead. If you burden your mind 
 so heavily with me you cannot attend to what 
 is your real concern. Trust me more. Think 
 less about me. I will show no irritation, no 
 initiative, and I will follow where you point. I 
 should like to think that you would rest to-night,
 
 158 MONTLIVET 
 
 rest care free. I wish you good-night, mon 
 sieur." 
 
 She had spoken with a hurry of low-toned 
 words that left me no opening, and now she 
 turned away before my tongue was ready to 
 serve my mind. She bowed us to the door, and 
 the rush mat fell between us. I watched the old 
 chief stalk away and wondered what was in his 
 mind. 
 
 "Is this the first white woman he has seen?" 
 I asked the priest. 
 
 Father Nouvel smiled reflectively at the re 
 treating back. "Oh, no," he replied. "He has 
 been in Quebec. He is the chief you must 
 have heard quoted, who vaunted that God had 
 made three great men, La Salle, Frontenac, 
 and himself. He is a crafty man and able. You 
 see that he never squanders strength nor words. 
 No, monsieur, you must not follow me." He 
 stopped to lay a hand on my shoulder. "Take 
 heed, my son. Ox that you look to be for endur 
 ance, there are yet lines under your eyes. I will 
 not talk to you to-night. Sleep well. I take it 
 for granted that you prefer to sleep as I do, under 
 the stars." And putting out his thin, ivory hand 
 in blessing, he went away. 
 
 But I was not ready for sleep. I went to the 
 canoes, sent the men to rest, and found food which 
 I carried to the woman, and left, with a whis-
 
 WE REACH THE ISLANDS 159 
 
 pered word, outside her door. Then I ate some 
 parched corn, and lighting my pipe, lay down 
 to take counsel of what had befallen me. I lay 
 at some distance from the woman s lodge, but 
 not so far but that I could see the rush mat that 
 hung before it. The Indians watched me, but 
 kept at a distance. I saw that Onanguisse had 
 given commands. 
 
 I had so much to work out in my mind that I 
 thought sleep would come slowly, but I remember 
 nothing from the moment when I bolstered my 
 head in my arms till I found the moon shining 
 in my face. It had been starlight when I went 
 to sleep, I remembered, and I raised my eyelids 
 warily. A wild life teaches the dullest to know 
 when he has been wakened by some one watch 
 ing him. And I knew it now. 
 
 The world was white light and thick shadow. 
 Wigwams, dogs, stumps, trees, sleeping Indians, 
 I counted them in turn. Then I saw more. A 
 pine tree near me had too thick a trunk. That 
 was what I had expected. I let my eyes travel 
 cautiously upward till they met the shining points 
 of eyes watching me. 
 
 I lay and looked, and the eyes looked in re 
 turn. I did not dare glance away and the Indian 
 would not, so we stared like basilisks. It was not 
 an heroic position, and having a white man s 
 love for open action, I had to argue with myself
 
 160 MONTLIVET 
 
 to keep from letting my sword whistle. But fight 
 ing with savages is not open nor heroic. It is 
 tedious, oblique, often uninteresting, and fre 
 quently fatal. I was unwilling to lose my head 
 just then. So I lay still. If this were the 
 Huron, he was probably merely reconnoitring, 
 as I had reason to believe he had done several 
 times before. His game interested me, for he 
 seemed to work unnecessarily hard for meagre 
 returns, and Indians are seldom spendthrifts of 
 endeavor. I could accomplish nothing by cap 
 turing him, for I should learn nothing. There 
 was ostensible peace between the Huron nation 
 and myself. I would let him work out his plans 
 till he did something that I could lay hold of. Yet 
 I would not look away. I had grown very curious 
 to see his face. 
 
 I do not know how it would have ended, or 
 whether dawn would have found us still staring 
 like barnyard cats, for chance, and a dog, sud 
 denly settled the matter. The dog, a forlorn, 
 flea-driven cur, snuffed the fresh trail, followed 
 it to the tree, and snarled out a shout of protest. 
 He snarled but once. The Indian drew his 
 knife, stooped, and I heard the sound of tearing 
 hide and spouting blood. It was only a dog, but 
 I cursed myself for not having been quicker. 
 
 And so I sat up. I was forced to shift my eyes 
 for an instant in order to pick up my musket,
 
 WE REACH THE ISLANDS 161 
 
 which, secure in a friendly camp, I had dropped 
 at a careless arm s length from me on the ground. 
 When I looked again the Indian was gone. I 
 went to the tree. The Indian had had but an 
 instant, but he had secured himself out of reach 
 of my eyesight ; had faded into the background as 
 a partridge screens itself behind mottled leaves. 
 If I followed him, a knife would be slipped out 
 at me from behind stump or tree trunk, and the 
 dog might not have burial alone. 
 
 I went to the dog and stirred him with my 
 sword point. He was a noisome heap, but 
 I knew that I must overcome my repugnance 
 and bury him, or I should have to explain the 
 whole tale to the camp at dawn. And expla 
 nation would take time and was not necessary. 
 The Huron was following me, and had no 
 quarrel with the Pottawatamies. When I de 
 parted on the morrow he would undoubtedly 
 retie his sandals and continue the voyage. A 
 wife and a ghost! Two traveling guests I had 
 not reckoned with in planning this expedition. 
 I shrugged, and stooped to spit the dog upon my 
 sword, when I saw a skin pouch lying blood- 
 bathed at the creature s side. It was a bag such 
 as savages wear around their necks, and the 
 Indian had probably let it fall when he stooped 
 to kill the dog. 
 
 I seized it, careless of the smearing of my
 
 162 MONTLIVET 
 
 fingers, and took it to the moonlight. It was 
 made of the softest of dressed doeskin, and em 
 broidered in red porcupine quills with the fig 
 ure of a beaver squatting on a rounded lodge. I 
 had seen that design before. It was the to 
 tem sign of the house of the Baron, and this bag 
 had hung from Pemaou s neck that day when he 
 danced between me and the sunset and flung the 
 war spear at my heart. 
 
 I felt myself grow keenly awake and alive. 
 So it was Pemaou who was following. Well, I 
 had told him that we should meet again. I 
 untied the strings of the bag and turned its 
 contents into my handkerchief. There was an 
 amulet in the form of a beaver s paw, a twist of 
 tobacco, a flint, a tin looking-glass, and a folded 
 sheet of birch bark. I stopped a moment. 
 Should I look further? It was wartime and I 
 was dealing with a savage. I unfolded the bark 
 and pressed it open in my palm. There, boldly 
 drawn in crayon, was a head in profile; it was 
 the profile of the woman who lay in the lodge, 
 and whose mat-hung door I was guarding. Yes, 
 it was her profile, and it was one that no man 
 could forget, though when ] speak of a straight 
 nose and an oddly rounded chin, they are but 
 words to fit a thousand faces. 
 
 I refolded the bark, put it in my pocket, and 
 buried the dog. Then I sat down before the
 
 WE REACH THE ISLANDS 163 
 
 woman s wigwam. I had one point to work on 
 in my speculations. No Indian would draw a 
 head in profile, for he would be superstitious 
 about creating half of a person. I slept no more 
 that night.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A PROVISIONAL BARGAIN 
 
 I BEGAN my day as early as I thought it wise to 
 disturb the sleepers around me, and by the time 
 the sun was two hours high I had accomplished 
 several things. I had confessed to the priest, 
 had had a clean lodge of green boughs built for 
 the woman, and had bargained and bantered 
 with the Indians, and blustered over them with 
 knowledge of their language till they accorded 
 me reluctant grins. They had a village of seven 
 or eight hundred souls, and I found them a 
 marked people. They were cleaner than any 
 savages I had seen, the women were modest 
 and almost neat, and their manners had a 
 somewhat European air. I judged them to be 
 politicians rather than warriors, for the braves, 
 though well shaped and wiry, lacked the look 
 of ferocious hardihood that terrified white men 
 in the Iroquois race. But I found them keen 
 traders. 
 
 One purchase that I made took time. I wished 
 a new suit of skins for the woman, and I went 
 from lodge to lodge, searching and brow-beating 
 and dangling my trinkets till I was ready to join
 
 A PROVISIONAL BARGAIN 165 
 
 with the squaws in their laughter at my expense. 
 But my purchase once completed pleasured me 
 greatly. I had found it a little here and a little 
 there, and it was worthy any princess of the 
 woods. I had gathered blouse, skirt, leggings, 
 and moccasins, all new, and made of white 
 dressed deerskin pliable as velvet to the hand. 
 They looked to me full of feminine bravery. The 
 leggings and moccasins were beaded and quill 
 broidered, and the skirt was fringed and trimmed 
 with tiny hawk s bells. 
 
 I took the garments to the green lodge, laid 
 them out in order, saw that there were trenchers 
 of fresh water, and brought what conveniences 
 we had from the canoe. The pity of the situ 
 ation came upon me hard. I had to be father 
 and friend, lover I could not be. The woman 
 had great self-control, but she would need it. 
 Well, I could trust her to do her best. I went 
 to find her. 
 
 As yet I had not said good-morning to her, 
 although I had seen her from the distance, and 
 knew that she had breakfasted and had talked 
 with Father Nouvel. She was sitting now under 
 a beech tree on the headland, and when I bent 
 before her she shook her head. 
 
 "It is not real," she said, with a look over 
 water and forest. "It is all a dream." 
 
 I stopped to send a group of curious squaws
 
 166 MONTLIVET 
 
 upon their way. It was indeed like a pictured 
 spectacle, the green wood, the Indian village, 
 and the headland-guarded bay opening north 
 ward over rolling water. 
 
 "Yes, it is a dream," I agreed. "You will 
 soon wake. Where would you like the waken 
 ing to take place, mademoiselle? At Meu- 
 don?" 
 
 She looked up with a smile. "What would 
 you like to know about me?" she asked, with 
 a sober directness, which, like her smile, was 
 friendly and brave. : You heard something last 
 night. I am entirely willing to tell you more. 
 But is it not wise for us to know as little as pos 
 sible about each other?" 
 
 "Why, mademoiselle?" 
 
 She hesitated. "As we stand now," she ex 
 plained slowly, "we have no past nor future. 
 We live in a fantasy. We are cold and hungry, 
 but life is so strange that we forget our bodies. 
 It is all as unreal as a mirage. When it is over, 
 we part. If we part knowing nothing of each 
 other, it will all seem like a dream." 
 
 I thought a moment. "Then you think that 
 we must guard against growing interested in each 
 other, mademoiselle?" 
 
 She looked at me gravely. ; Yes. Do you 
 not think so, monsieur ? Friends for the night s 
 bivouac. Those were your words."
 
 A PROVISIONAL BARGAIN 167 
 
 Now was here a woman who felt deeply and 
 talked lightly? I had not met such. "It is 
 wise," I rejoined, "but difficult." I took the 
 crayon from my pocket and began drawing 
 faces on the white limestone rock at my side. I 
 drew idly and scowled at my work. "The In 
 dians can do better," I lamented. "Was your 
 cousin, Benjamin Starling, clever with his pencil, 
 mademoiselle ? " 
 
 She drew back, but she answered me fairly. 
 "Very clever," she said quietly. "It was a tal 
 ent. Why do you ask, monsieur?" 
 
 "I find myself thinking of him." I dropped 
 the crayon. "Listen, mademoiselle. I must ask 
 you some questions. Believe me, I have reasons. 
 Now as to your cousin, is he alive ?" 
 
 She looked off at the water. "I do not know, 
 monsieur." 
 
 She had become another woman. I hated 
 Benjamin Starling that his name could so in 
 stantly sap the life from her tone. 
 
 " Please look at me," I begged irritably. " Ma 
 demoiselle, I think that I must ask you to tell 
 me more, to tell me much more." 
 
 She rose. "Is it necessary ?" 
 
 I bowed. "Else I should not ask it. Please 
 sit, mademoiselle." 
 
 She sat where my hand pointed. "You know 
 that we were Tories," she began, in the quiet
 
 168 MONTLIVET 
 
 monotone I had learned to expect from her under 
 stress, " and that our family followed King James 
 to France. My parents died. I had no brothers 
 or sisters, and so, a year ago, I came to the Col 
 onies where I had friends. Later, my cousin fol 
 lowed, and we were betrothed. We had the 
 same cause at heart, and our joint estates would 
 give us some power. We planned to use them 
 for that purpose." 
 
 "And your capture? Did your cousin know 
 of it?" 
 
 " Monsieur, you say that this is necessary ? 
 My nurse had come to America, and married a 
 settler, in a village on the frontier. She was ill, 
 and I went to see her, and stayed some days. 
 My cousin followed, and stayed at a neighbor 
 ing house. One night the Indians came. The 
 woman s husband was away, and the little maid 
 servant ran at the first outcry. I was alone 
 with the woman, who could not leave her bed. I 
 cut my hair roughly, put on a suit of her hus 
 band s clothing, and took a musket. It was a 
 blockhouse, and I hoped that I might hold the 
 Indians off for a time if they thought me a 
 man." 
 
 "And your cousin?" 
 
 "He came to me. He w T as running. He 
 said it was of no use. He had seen men brained. 
 There were legions of Indians. He said there
 
 A PROVISIONAL BARGAIN 169 
 
 was nothing left but flight. He tried to take me 
 with him." 
 
 "And when you would not go? When you 
 would not desert?" 
 
 "Monsieur, he went alone." 
 
 I laid myself down on the grass before her, 
 and covered her hands with mine. "I am not 
 quite a brute," I said. "I had to ask it. Look, 
 look, mademoiselle, it is all over. See, the sky 
 is gentle, and the Indians are friendly, and my 
 sword Well, I will not leave you, mademoi 
 selle, until you tell me to go. But I must say 
 more. Your cousin - Is he Lord Starling?" 
 t ."Yes." 
 
 "Lord Starling is probably alive. If he is, 
 he is searching for you. Have you thought of 
 that?" 
 
 "But the wilderness, the terrible leagues 
 of wilderness! He could not track me, mon 
 sieur." 
 
 "When there is money and influence, even the 
 wilderness has messengers. He was close to the 
 person of James. Is he a Catholic?" 
 
 "He professed it, monsieur." 
 
 I shook my head. ; You are very bitter. 
 You need not be. He was insane that night. 
 I have known the sight of Indian butchery to 
 turn good men into whimpering animals. He 
 was not responsible. I know that he is lavish-
 
 170 MONTLIVET 
 
 ing time and fortune and strength to find you 
 now." 
 
 I thought she winced. You know this, mon 
 sieur?" 
 
 It was my turn to look away. "I know some 
 thing of a man s heart," I answered deliberately. 
 "If I loved you, mademoiselle, and lost you 
 lost you, and played the craven, I should 
 find you. The wilderness would not matter. I 
 should find you. I should find you, and retrieve 
 myself some way. Lord Starling has wit and 
 daring, else he would not be an exile, else you 
 would not have promised to marry him. Be as 
 sured that he is following you, and is probably 
 not far behind. Do you want him to find you, 
 mademoiselle?" 
 
 I turned with the last word, and looked her full 
 in the face. It was a stupid trick, but it served. 
 I had her answer. 
 
 "There!" I cried, and I laughed a little jerk 
 ily. "Never mind. Don t answer. We have 
 talked enough, mademoiselle. We will be mar 
 ried at noon to-day. Ah, you never loved him, 
 else, no matter what he had done, you could 
 never look as you look now. Wherever he is, 
 or whatever kind of man he may be, I do him 
 no wrong in giving you my name to-day." I 
 took the pictured birch bark from my pocket, 
 and tore it in fine strips. "A useless map," I
 
 A PROVISIONAL BARGAIN 171 
 
 said in explanation. " Mademoiselle, may I have 
 your finger to measure?" 
 
 She gave me her hand, and I circled her finger 
 with a grass blade, and warned her that the ring 
 that I should give her would be almost as crude. 
 She was trying to keep herself from asking ques 
 tions, and was going to succeed. I liked that. It 
 was useless to terrify her with fables of prowling 
 Indians, and profiles on bark. And then, what 
 was there to tell ? I knew at once too much 
 and too little. I took some bent gold wire from 
 my pocket, and showed it to her. 
 
 "I am going to plait it into a braid for the 
 ring," I said. "I think that I can file the ends, 
 and make it serve. It is all I have. I wear 
 no jewelry, and would not give you one of the 
 brass rings we use in trade. This is at least 
 gold." 
 
 She watched me straighten the kinks in the 
 wire. You took that from something you 
 valued," she said. " I will wear the brass ring. 
 Surely you can replace this wire where it be 
 longs." 
 
 I shook my head. "It was a filigree frame," 
 I volunteered. 
 
 I had spoken with as little thought as a dog 
 barks, and quite as witlessly. I knew that as 
 soon as I heard my words. I looked at the wo 
 man. But she was not going to question me.
 
 172 MONTLIVET 
 
 "If it was a frame, it held a miniature," she 
 said quietly. " Please twist the w T ire around it 
 again. I prefer the brass ring." 
 
 "Because?" 
 
 " I would not rob any one. If you have carried 
 the picture all these leagues, it is a token from 
 some one you love; some one who loves you. I 
 have no part in that." 
 
 I went on plaiting the wire. "The woman 
 of the miniature will know no robbery," I said, 
 "because she knew no possession. Mademoi 
 selle, you seem in every way to be a woman with 
 whom it is wisest to have a clear understand- 
 ing." 
 
 You need tell me nothing." 
 
 "It is better to tell the whole, now that you 
 have stumbled on a part. I was nothing to that 
 woman whose face I carried with me. She did 
 not know I had the picture. I might never have 
 told her. It was nothing, you see. It was all 
 in a man s mind, and the man now has sterner 
 matters to fill his thought. I would like you to 
 wear this ring." 
 
 "Why not the other?" 
 
 I laughed at her a little. " I shall try not to 
 give you spurious metal, even granted that 
 our bargain is provisional. Now, mademoiselle, 
 may I take you to the lodge I have had made ? 
 In two hours we are to be married."
 
 A PROVISIONAL BARGAIN 173 
 
 She followed at my side, and I took her to the 
 lodge, and pointed her within. She glanced at 
 what I had done, and I saw her bite her lip. She 
 turned to me without a smile. 
 
 "It all makes it harder," she said indefinitely. 
 "Harder to think of the wrong that I am doing 
 you and the other woman." 
 
 I cannot abide misapprehension. We were 
 alone. "Wait!" I begged. " Mademoiselle, you 
 cannot probe a man s thought. Often he cannot 
 probe his own. But I am not unhappy. A 
 man marries many brides, and Ambition, if the 
 truth be told, is, perhaps, the dearest. I shall 
 embrace her. You should be able to under 
 stand." 
 
 "But the woman. She must have seen that 
 you loved her. She may have cared more in re 
 turn than you knew." 
 
 I looked at her. "The lady of the miniature," 
 I said slowly, "had many lovers. If she showed 
 me special favor, I assure you I did not know. 
 But even if her fancy did stray toward me, 
 which I think it did not, why, she was 
 She was a winsome, softly smiling, gentle lady, 
 mademoiselle. She was not fire, and spirit, and 
 courage, and loyalty, and temper, and tenderness. 
 No, she was not in the least like that. I think 
 that she would soon forget. Have we dropped 
 this subject forever, mademoiselle?"
 
 174 MONTLIVET 
 
 She made me a grave curtsy. "Till we reach 
 Montreal," she promised, and she did not raise 
 her eyes. 
 
 We were married at noon. The altar stood 
 under an oak tree, and the light sifted in pat 
 terns on the ground. I wore satin, and ribbon, 
 and shining buckle, for I carried those gewgaws 
 in my cargo, but my finery did not shame my 
 bride s attire. She stood proud, and rounded, 
 and supple in her deerskins, and a man might 
 have gloried in her. Seven hundred Indians, 
 glistening like snakes with oil and vermilion, 
 squatted around us, but they held themselves 
 as lifeless as marionettes. It was so still that I 
 heard the snore of a sleeping dog and the gulls 
 in the harbor squawking over a floating fish. 
 Father Nouvel spoke very slowly. This was a 
 real marriage, a sacrament, to him. 
 
 As we turned from the ceremony, Onanguisse 
 came forward. He was not painted, but he wore 
 a mantle of embroidered buffalo skin, and his 
 hair, which was dressed high with eagle s fea 
 thers, was powdered with down from the breasts 
 of white gulls. He stood in front of the woman. 
 
 "Listen," he said. "I speak to the white 
 thrush. She cannot understand my words, but 
 her heart has called to my heart, and that will 
 teach her to know my meaning. Brethren, bear 
 witness. An eagle cares naught for a partridge,
 
 A PROVISIONAL BARGAIN 175 
 
 but an eagle calls to an eagle though there be 
 much water and many high rocks between. 
 You know the lodge of Onanguisse. It has fire, 
 but no warmth. I am old, and age needs love 
 to warm it, but I am alone. First my wife, 
 then my two sons, last of all, at the time the 
 chestnuts were in blossom, my daughter Mimi, 
 the Master of Life called them one by one. 
 I have washed my face, and I have combed my 
 hair, yet who can say I have not mourned ? 
 My life has been as dead as the dried grass that 
 thatches the muskrat s lodges. When have any 
 of you seen Onanguisse smile ? Yet think not 
 that I stretch out my hands to the country of 
 souls. I will live, and sit at the council fire till 
 many of you who are before me have evapo 
 rated like smoke from a pipe. For I am of the 
 race of the bear, and the bear never yields while 
 one drop of blood is left. And the Master of 
 Life has been kind. He has brought me at 
 last a woman who has an eagle s eyesight and 
 a bear s endurance. She is worthy to be of my 
 family. I have waited for such an one. Her 
 speech is strange, but her blood answers mine. 
 It is idle to mourn. I will replace the dead 
 with the living. This woman shall be no more 
 the white thrush. She shall be Mimi, the turtle 
 dove, the daughter of Onanguisse. Brethren, 
 bear witness. Mimi is no longer dead. She
 
 176 MONTLIVET 
 
 stands here." He stepped closer to the woman. 
 "I give you this cloak that you may wrap me in 
 your memory," he went on. "I hereby confirm 
 my words;" and thereupon, he threw over her 
 shoulders a long, shining mantle made of the 
 small skins of the white hare. It was a robe 
 for an empress. 
 
 I stepped forward, then stood still, and re 
 solved to trust the woman as she had asked. 
 
 You are adopted," I prompted softly, with 
 no motion of my lips. 
 
 She understood. Wrapped in her white cloak, 
 she curtsied low before Onanguisse. Then she 
 turned to me. "Tell him," she said, "that my 
 heart is wiser than my tongue; the one is dumb, 
 but the other answers. Say to him that I see 
 his face, and it tells me that he has lived wisely 
 and with honor. I am now of his family. I, 
 too, will strive to live wisely, that he need not be 
 shamed. Say to him that I will not forget." She 
 stopped with her glance upon the old chief, and 
 her eyes held something I had not seen in them 
 before. With me, their self-reliance had some 
 times been hard, almost provocative, as if the 
 spirit behind them defied the world to break it 
 down. But as she met this kindness this kind 
 ness that was instinctive, and not a matter of 
 prudence or reason all hardness vanished, and 
 her dignity was almost wistful. I thought of my
 
 A PROVISIONAL BARGAIN 177 
 
 mother, the saddened head of a great house, who 
 had seen the ruin of home and heart, but whose 
 spirit would not die. Something in this woman s 
 face, as she stood silent, suddenly gave me back 
 the vision of my mother as I had seen her last. 
 I looked with my heart beating hard. The hush 
 lasted fully a moment, then the woman drew 
 her cloak closer, curtsied again, and walked back 
 to her green lodge. 
 
 I turned to the chief, and would have trans 
 lated what had been said, but after the first 
 phrase, he motioned me to silence. "She has 
 taken my robe. She has become of my family. 
 That is sufficient." He lifted his calumet, and 
 went to give orders for the feasting. 
 
 So the priest and I stood alone. He looked 
 at me, and shook his head. His mouth was 
 smiling, but I saw him brush at his eyes. " You 
 have married a woman of great spirit, mon 
 sieur," he said, with a touch of his hand on my 
 sleeve. They are rare, most rare." He 
 stopped. ; Yet the roedeer is not made for the 
 paddock," he said impersonally. 
 
 I laughed, and it sounded exultant. I felt the 
 blood hammer in my temples. "Nor can the 
 thrush be tamed to sit the finger like the par- 
 rakeet," I completed. "I understand that, Fa 
 ther Nouvel." 
 
 The wedding feast followed. Madame de
 
 178 MONTLIVET 
 
 Montlivet, the priest, Onanguisse, and I sat in 
 a semicircle on the ground, and slaves served 
 us with wooden trenchers of food. We each had 
 our separate service, like monks in a refectory, 
 but we were not treated with equal state, for 
 the woman drank from a copper-trimmed ladle, 
 made from the polished skull of a buffalo, while 
 my cup was a dried gourd. We ate in ceremo 
 nial silence, and were sunk in our own thoughts. 
 There was food till the stomach sickened at its 
 gross abundance: whitefish, broth, sagamite, the 
 feet of a bear, the roasted tail of a beaver, I 
 watched the slaves bring the food and bear it 
 away, and I said to myself that I was sitting at 
 my wedding feast, a feast to celebrate a false 
 marriage. 
 
 After the feast, the calumet was danced before 
 us. Still there was silence between the woman 
 and myself as we sat side by side. I won 
 dered if she realized that this strange dance was 
 still further confirmation of what we had done; 
 that it was part of the ceremony of our mar 
 riage. It was a picture as unreal, as incom 
 prehensible, as the fate we had invited. The 
 sun was westering, and shone full upon the 
 dancing braves. Their corded muscles and 
 protruding eyes made them ghastly as tortured 
 wretches of some red-lit inferno. There was 
 no laughter nor jesting. The kettle-drum rum-
 
 A PROVISIONAL BARGAIN 179 
 
 bled like water in a cave, and the chant of the 
 singers wailed, and died, and wailed again. And 
 this was for my wedding. I looked down at 
 the woman s hand that bore my ring, and saw 
 that the strong, nervous fingers were gripped till 
 they were bloodless. What was she thinking? 
 I tried to meet her look, but it was rapt and 
 awed. A wave of heat ran through me; the wild 
 music beat into my blood. This savage ritual 
 that I had looked at with alien eyes suddenly 
 took to itself the dignity of the terrible wilder 
 ness that bound us. The pageantry of its bar 
 barism seized upon me; it was a fitting setting 
 for one kind of marriage, not a marriage of 
 flowers and dowry, but the union of two great, 
 stormy hearts who, through clash and turmoil, 
 had found peace at last. But ours was a mock 
 marriage, and we had not found peace. My 
 breath choked me. I leaped to my feet, and 
 begged Onanguisse to end the ceremony, and 
 let me do my share. I knew what was my part 
 as bridegroom, and Pierre and Labarthe were 
 waiting with their arms laden. I distributed 
 hatchets, Brazil tobacco, and beads from Venice. 
 Then I turned to Onanguisse. 
 
 "We go to the land of the Malhominis, to the 
 wild rice people. They live toward the south 
 west?" 
 
 He nodded. "Across La Baye des Puants
 
 180 MONTLIVET 
 
 as the wild goose flies. Then down till you 
 find the mouth of the wild rice river. But why 
 go till another sunrise?" 
 
 I hesitated. But I thought of the shadowing 
 Huron, and decided that I could elude him best 
 at night. "We are in haste," I told Onan- 
 guisse, and I pointed the men toward their 
 work. 
 
 But before I myself had time to step toward 
 the canoes, I felt the woman s touch upon my 
 arm. Though, in truth, it was odd that I felt it, 
 for the movement was light as the brushing of a 
 grass stalk. 
 
 "Monsieur, do we go now?" she asked. 
 "You have had no opportunity for council with 
 these Indians, yet I see that they are powerful." 
 
 She was watching my interests. I laid my 
 fingers on hers, and looked full at her as I had 
 not done since we had been man and wife. Her 
 eyes were mournful as they often were, but they 
 were starry with a thought I could not read. 
 The awe and the wonder were still there, and her 
 fingers were unsteady under mine. I dropped 
 to my knees. 
 
 "I have done more than you saw," I said, 
 with my eyes on hers. "I have talked with 
 Onanguisse, and have smoked a full pipe with 
 the old men in council. Thank you for your 
 interest. Thank you, Madame de Montlivet."
 
 A PROVISIONAL BARGAIN 181 
 
 But she would not look at me bent before her. 
 "That I wish you to do your best, unhampered 
 by me, does not mean that I wish you success," 
 she said, with her head high, and she went to 
 Onanguisse, and curtsied her adieus. Her last 
 words were with Father Nouvel, and she hid her 
 eyes for a moment, while he blessed her and said 
 good-by. 
 
 Our canoes pointed to the sunset as we 
 rounded the headland and slid outward. On 
 the shore, the Indian women chanted a hymn 
 to Messou, to Messou, the Maker of Life, and 
 the God of Marriage, to whom, on our behalf, 
 many pipes had been smoked that day.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 I TAKE A NEW PASSENGER 
 
 Now the great bay on which we were embarked 
 was a water empire, fair to the eye, but tricky 
 of wind and current. La Baye des Puants the 
 French called it, from the odor that came at 
 seasons from the swamps on the shore, and it 
 ran southwest from Lake Illinois. The Potta- 
 watamie Islands that we had just left well-nigh 
 blocked its mouth, and its southern end was the 
 outlet of a shining stream that was known as the 
 River of the Fox. The bay was thirty leagues 
 long by eight broad, and had tides like the ocean. 
 Five tribes dwelt around it: the Pottawatamies 
 at its mouth, the Malhominis halfway down on 
 its western shore, and the Sacs, the Chippewas, 
 and the Winnebagoes scattered at different points 
 in more transitory camps. To the east the bay 
 was separated from Lake Illinois by a long pen 
 insula that lay like a rough-hewn arrow with its 
 point to the polestar. It was goodly land, I 
 had been told, rich in game, and splashed with 
 ponds, but since it was too small to support the 
 hunting of a tribe it was left comparatively un 
 occupied. All of the five tribes, and sometimes
 
 the Miamis, fished there at intervals ; it was neu 
 tral ground. I told all this to the woman as our 
 canoes swept toward the sunset. 
 
 She sat with her back to the west, and the 
 sun, that dazzled my eyes, shone red through 
 her brown hair, and I scorned myself that I 
 should have believed for a moment that such 
 soft, fine abundance ever framed a man s fore 
 head. I talked to her freely; talked of winds 
 and tides and Indians, and was not deterred 
 when she answered me but sparingly. I could 
 not see her face distinctly, because of the light, 
 but there was something in the gentleness and 
 intentness of her listening poise that made me 
 feel that she welcomed the safeguard of my aim 
 less speech, but that for the moment she had no 
 similar weapons of her own. 
 
 So long as daylight lasted, we traveled swiftly 
 toward the southwest, but when the sunset 
 had burned itself to ashes, and the sky had 
 blurred into the tree line, I told the men to 
 shift their paddles, and drift for a time. The 
 last twenty - four hours had hardened them to 
 surprise. They obeyed me as they did Provi 
 dence, as a troublesome, but all - powerful 
 enigma. 
 
 And so we floated, swinging like dead leaves 
 on the long swells. The stars came out, the 
 gulls went shoreward for the night, and we were
 
 184 MONTLIVET 
 
 as alone as if on the sea. The woman s slen 
 der figure, wrapped in her white cloak, became 
 a silent, shining wraith. She was within touch 
 of my hand, yet unreachably remote. I lost my 
 glib speech. The gray loneliness that one feels 
 in a crowd came over me. If I had been alone 
 with my men, I should have felt well accom 
 panied, master of my craft, and in tune with 
 my condition. It was the presence of this alien 
 woman, whom I must protect, but not approach, 
 that made me realize that I was thousands of 
 leagues from my own kind, and that I must 
 depend on my own judgment with which I 
 felt much out of conceit to carry this expe 
 dition safely through the barbarous wilderness. 
 I shook myself, and told my men to pick up their 
 paddles. 
 
 But we were to travel no more toward the 
 southwest that night. My plan was to turn 
 back, paddle due east, and reach the peninsula 
 before the late moonrise. This doubling on my 
 track was to cheat Pemaou if he were indeed 
 pursuing. Then I was planning to make the 
 peninsula my headquarters for a time. I had 
 left word at the islands that I was on my way 
 to confer with the Malhominis, but I had not 
 committed myself as to where I should make 
 my permanent camp. I hoped, in this game of 
 hide and seek, to shake off the Huron, and leave
 
 I TAKE A NEW PASSENGER 185 
 
 the woman in safe hiding while I went on my 
 mission from tribe to tribe. 
 
 And so I told the men to work with muffled 
 paddles. I thought the precaution somewhat un 
 necessary, but took it as a matter of form. Now 
 that I was in action again, I felt in command 
 of the situation. And then, from some shadowy 
 distance, I heard the splash of a pursuing oar. 
 
 I commanded silence, and we craned into the 
 darkness, and listened. We all heard it. The 
 sound came as regularly as a heart-beat, and it 
 was no muffled stroke. The oarsman was using 
 his paddle openly and fast. The sound came 
 from behind us, a little to the north, and, judging 
 from its growing distinctness, it was following 
 hard in our track. There was nothing for it but 
 a race. I gave orders. 
 
 The men worked well, and we sped through 
 foaming water for perhaps a quarter hour. Then 
 land rose in front of us. It shot up, all in an in 
 stant, out of the murk, and we had quick work 
 to keep from grounding our canoes. I could see 
 no shore line to north or south. We had found 
 either the end of a promontory or a small island. 
 We landed on a shelving beach, and lifted the 
 canoes out of danger. 
 
 "Lie down," I commanded; and we dropped 
 on the sand, and strained our ears for sound of 
 pursuit.
 
 186 MONTLIVET 
 
 For a time we heard nothing. Our burst of 
 speed had carried us some distance, and I had 
 begun to think that we had shaken off our pur 
 suer, when again came the beat, beat, beat of 
 the distant oar. We lay close as alligators on 
 a bank, and waited. The strokes came nearer, 
 and at last we saw a sliding shape. As well as 
 we could make out, there was but one canoe, and 
 it was passing us a little to the northward. It 
 would miss the jut of land where we were hiding, 
 and land on the main shore of the peninsula. 
 We could hear but one paddle, so judged that 
 there was but one person in the canoe. Still we 
 did not know. 
 
 It was growing near moonrise, and there was 
 nothing to be done. I told the men to lie near 
 together, and sleep till I called them. Then I 
 cut boughs and laid a couple of blankets on 
 them for the woman s couch. She had sat quiet 
 all these hours, and now, as I bade her good 
 night, she asked her first question. 
 
 "Are you willing to tell me why you fear pur 
 suit, monsieur?" 
 
 I hesitated. " We grow like animals in the wil 
 derness," I parried, "and so suspect every sound 
 as coming from a foe." 
 
 "Then you do not know who it is in the 
 canoe ? " 
 
 I could have answered "no," but I would not.
 
 I TAKE A NEW PASSENGER 187 
 
 "Yes, I think that I know," I replied. "I 
 think that it is Pemaou, a Huron. An Indian 
 whom you have never seen." 
 
 She read the hate in my voice. "Do you 
 know what he wants, monsieur ? " 
 
 And now I could answer truthfully, and with 
 a laugh. " I suspect that he wants, or has been 
 sent to get, something that I have determined 
 to keep, at least for the present," I told her. 
 "Good-night, madame." 
 
 I told my inner self that I must sleep soundly, 
 and wake just before dawn ; and so that was what 
 happened. The horizon was flushing when I rose 
 and looked around. My company was asleep. 
 The woman lay on her bright blankets, and I 
 looked at her a moment to make sure that all was 
 well. She was smiling as if her dreams were 
 pleasant, and her face wore such a look of peace, 
 that I turned to the east, ready to begin the day, 
 and to thank God that I had not done everything 
 entirely wrong. I took the lighter of the canoes, 
 carried it to the water, and dipping a cautious 
 paddle, crept off along the shore. 
 
 If I wake in the woods every dawn for a year, 
 I can never grow stale to the miracle of it. I 
 was on no pleasant errand, yet I could not help 
 tingling at the cleanness of the air and at the 
 smell of the mint that our canoes had crushed. I 
 hugged the shore like a shadow, and rounded a
 
 188 MONTLIVET 
 
 little bend. It was as I had thought. We had 
 landed on the western side of a small island, and 
 before me, not a quarter hour s paddling away, 
 stretched the shore line of the peninsula. 
 
 Here was my risk. I paddled softly across 
 the open stretch, but that availed me little, for I 
 was an unprotected target. I slanted my course 
 northward, and strained my gaze along the shore. 
 Yet I hardly expected to find anything. It came 
 like a surprise when I saw in advance of me a 
 light canoe drawn up on the sand. 
 
 I landed, drew my own canoe to shelter, and 
 reconnoitred. I had both knife and musket 
 ready, and I pulled myself over logs as silent as 
 a snake. Yet, cautious as I was, little furtive 
 rustlings preceded me. The wood folks had seen 
 me and were spreading the warning. Unless 
 Pemaou were asleep I had little chance of sur 
 prising him. Yet I crept on till I saw through 
 the leaves the outlines of a brown figure on the 
 ground. 
 
 I stopped. I had been trying for a good 
 many hours to balance the right and wrong of 
 this matter in my mind, and my reason had in 
 sisted to my inclination that, if I had opportu 
 nity, I must kill Pemaou without warning. We 
 respect no code in dealing with a rattlesnake, 
 and I must use this Huron like the vermin that 
 he was. So I had taught myself.
 
 I TAKE A NEW PASSENGER 189 
 
 But now I could not do it. The blanket- 
 wrapped shape was as unconscious as a child in 
 its cradle, and though the wilderness may breed 
 hardness of purpose it need not teach butchery. 
 I crept out determined to scuttle the Indian s 
 canoe and go away. If the man waked, my 
 knife was ready to try conclusions with him in a 
 fair field. 
 
 I suppose that I really desired him to wake, 
 and that made me careless, for just as I bent to 
 the canoe, I let my foot blunder on a twig, and 
 it cracked like shattering glass. I grasped my 
 knife and whirled. The figure on the ground 
 jerked, threw off its shrouding blanket, and 
 stretched up. It was not Pemaou. It was the 
 Ottawa girl Singing Arrow. 
 
 I did not drop my knife. My thought was of 
 decoy and ambush, which was no credit to me, 
 for this girl had been faithful before. But we 
 train ourselves not to trust an Indian except of 
 necessity. 
 
 "Are you alone?" I demanded. 
 
 She nodded, pressing her lips together and 
 dimpling. She feared me as little as a kitten 
 might. 
 
 " I came to the Pottawatamie camp just after 
 you left," she volunteered. 
 
 And then I laughed, laughed as I had not done 
 in days. So this was the quarry that I had been
 
 190 MONTLIVET 
 
 stalking! I had been under a long tension, and 
 it was suddenly comfortable to be ridiculous. I 
 sat down and laughed again. 
 
 "Are you following Pierre?" I asked, sober 
 ing, and trying to be stern. 
 
 But she put her head sidewise and considered 
 me. She looked like a squirrel about to crack a 
 nut. 
 
 "A hare may track a stag," she announced 
 judicially. "I have followed you. My back is 
 bent like a worm with the aching of it, but I 
 came faster than a man. I have this for you," 
 and fumbling in her blouse she brought out a 
 bulky packet addressed with my name. 
 
 I took it with the marvel that a child takes a 
 sleight-of-hand toy and stared at the seal. 
 
 "From Cadillac! From the commandant!" 
 I ejaculated. 
 
 She nodded. It was her moment of triumph, 
 but she passed it without outward show. 
 
 "Read it. I am sleepy," she said, and yawn 
 ing in my face she tumbled herself back into the 
 blanket and closed her eyes. 
 
 The packet was well wrapped and secured, 
 and I dug my way to the heart of it and found 
 the written pages. The letter began abruptly. 
 
 "Monsieur," it said, "I send you strange tid 
 ings by a stranger messenger. It is new to me 
 to trust petticoats in matters of secrecy, but
 
 I TAKE A NEW PASSENGER 191 
 
 it is rumored that you set me the example, and 
 that you carried off the Englishman dressed in 
 this Singing Arrow s clothes. The Indian her 
 self will tell me nothing. That determined me 
 to trust her. 
 
 "Briefly, you are followed. That fire-eating 
 English lad that you have with you I warrant 
 that he has proved a porcupine to travel with 
 must be of some importance. At all events, 
 an Englishman, who gives his name as Starling, 
 has made his way here in pursuit. He tells a 
 fair tale. He says that the lad, who is dear as 
 a brother to him, is a cousin, who was captured 
 in an Indian raid on the frontier. As soon as 
 he, Starling, learned of the capture, he started 
 after them, and he has spent months searching 
 the wilderness, as you would sift the sand of 
 the sea. He found the trail at last, and followed 
 it here. He begs that I send him on to you 
 with a convoy. 
 
 "Now this, as you see, sounds very fair, and 
 part of it I know to be true. The man is cer 
 tainly in earnest about something, and has 
 spent great time and endeavor in this search. 
 He has even been to Quebec, and worked on 
 Frontenac s sympathies, for he bears from the 
 governor a letter of safe conduct to me, and 
 another, from the Jesuits, to Father Carheil. 
 He comes apparently on no political mis-
 
 192 MONTLIVET 
 
 sion; he is alone, and his tale is entirely plau 
 sible. There is but one course open to me. I 
 must let him go on. 
 
 "But I do it with misgivings. The story is 
 fair, but I can tell a fair story myself upon occa 
 sion, and there is no great originality in this one. 
 I remember that you said after your first inter 
 view with your Englishman, that you were afraid 
 he was a spy. There is always that danger, 
 a danger that Frontenac underestimates because 
 he has not grasped the possibilities that we have 
 here. If both these men should prove to be 
 spies, and in collusion Well, they are brave 
 men, and crafty; it will be the greater plea 
 sure to outwit them. I cannot overlook the 
 fact that the first Englishman was brought here 
 by the Baron s band of Hurons, and that this 
 man selects his messengers from the same dirty 
 clan. I have reason to think he was in com 
 munication with them before he came, which 
 is no credit to a white man. Dubisson, my 
 lieutenant, tells me that a Huron told his Indian 
 servant that pictures of the prisoner drawn on 
 bark had been scattered among the Indians for 
 a fortnight past. The story was roundabout, 
 and I could not run it down. But it makes me 
 watchful. 
 
 "So this is where we stand. I must give this 
 man Starling a letter to you. The letter will
 
 I TAKE A NEW PASSENGER 193 
 
 be official, and will direct you to deliver your 
 prisoner into Starling s hands. If he finds you, 
 you have no choice but to obey; so, if you think 
 from your further knowledge of your prisoner 
 that it is unwise for these two men to meet, it 
 is your cue not to be found. I leave it with you. 
 
 "There is, of course, great doubt whether 
 this will find you. You asked me about Onan- 
 guisse, so I infer that you will stop at the islands 
 at the mouth of La Baye, and I shall send the 
 Indian girl directly there. I shall suggest to 
 Starling that he hug the coast line, and search 
 each bay, and if he listens to me, the girl should 
 reach you well in advance. But it is all guess 
 work. Starling may have spies among the In 
 dians, and know exactly where you are. I wish he 
 were out of the way. Granted that his errand 
 is fair, he will still see too much. For all men, 
 in whatever state they are born, lack neither 
 vanity nor ambition, and this man is accustomed 
 to command. It is a crack in the dike, and 
 I do not like it. 
 
 " But enough. I hear that you trussed Father 
 Blackgown like a pigeon for the spit the night that 
 you went away. I would have given my best to 
 bacco box to have seen it. There was some excite 
 ment here over the loss of the prisoner, but no 
 talk of pursuit. Indeed, the Hurons seemed re 
 lieved to have him spirited out of the way. Which
 
 194 MONTLIVET 
 
 is odd, for they took great pains to obtain him. 
 But I am wonted to the unexpected; it is the 
 usual that finds me unprepared. Even Father 
 Blackgown surprises me. He has not complained 
 to me of you, though heretofore I have found 
 him as ready to shout his wrongs as a crow in 
 a cornfield. But again, enough. 
 
 "And I have the honor to be, with great re 
 spect, monsieur, 
 
 : Your very obedient servant, 
 "ANTOINE DE LA MOTHE-CADILLAC." 
 
 I read the letter through twice. Then I 
 turned to Singing Arrow. I was glad she was 
 a savage. If she had been white, man or wo 
 man, I should have been obliged to go through 
 a long explanation, and I was not in the mood 
 for it. Now savages are content to begin things 
 in the middle, and omit questions. It may be 
 indolence with them, and it may be philosophy. 
 I have never decided to my satisfaction. But 
 the fact serves. 
 
 "Do you think that you were followed?" I 
 asked. 
 
 The girl sat up and shook her head. " Only 
 by the stars and the clouds," she answered. 
 
 I felt relieved. "And how did you happen 
 to come this way?" I went on. "What did 
 they tell you at the Pottawatamie Islands?"
 
 I TAKE A NEW PASSENGER 195 
 
 She stopped to laugh. "That you went the 
 other way," she replied, and she swept her arm 
 to the southwest. 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders. "And you thought 
 I lied to them?" 
 
 She nodded her answer. "The bird who 
 hides her nest cries and makes a great noise and 
 runs away from it," she explained. "You told 
 all the Pottawatamies who would listen that you 
 were going southwest. So I went southeast." 
 
 I could afford to let her laugh at me. "We 
 stopped at that island over there," I said, with 
 out comment. "Now we will follow this shore 
 line for a distance south. You must go with us. 
 Singing Arrow, did they tell you at the islands 
 that the English prisoner was a woman, and 
 that she is now my wife?" 
 
 The girl did not answer nor look in my direc 
 tion. She pulled her blanket over her head, 
 and sat as stiffly as a badger above his hole. 
 I could not determine whether the news of the 
 marriage was a surprise or not. It did not mat 
 ter. I lit my pipe and let her work it out. 
 
 " Are you coming ? " I asked at last. " I must 
 go back to the island now." 
 
 She rose and pulled her blanket around her. 
 She was typically Indian at the moment, un 
 readable and cold. But she nodded in acqui 
 escence and went to her canoe.
 
 196 MONTLIVET 
 
 I found my own canoe and we paddled side 
 by side. The sun was over the horizon now 
 and fish were jumping. I saw a great bass that 
 must have weighed five pounds spring his whole 
 length out of the water for a fly. A sportsman 
 in France would have traveled leagues to have 
 seen such a fish, and here it lay ready for my 
 hand. Perhaps after all there was no need to 
 search for reasons for the exultation that was 
 possessing me. 
 
 A few moments brought us to the island, and 
 we rounded the point and came into the cove. 
 The little camp was awake and startled by my 
 absence. Pierre was searching the horizon from 
 under a red, hairy hand, and Labarthe was 
 looking to the priming of his arquebus. Only 
 the woman sat steadfast. All this I saw at a 
 glance. 
 
 I rushed the canoes to the shore, and helped 
 the Indian girl to alight as I would have helped 
 any woman. I gave one look at the men, and 
 said, " Be still," and then I led Singing Arrow to 
 the woman. 
 
 " Madame," I said, " here is the Indian girl 
 who befriended you when you were a prisoner. 
 It was she who passed us last night. She comes 
 to me with documents from Cadillac, and I have 
 great reason to be grateful to her. I commend 
 her to you, madame."
 
 I TAKE A NEW PASSENGER 197 
 
 I doubt that the woman heard much of my 
 speech, though I made it earnestly. She was 
 looking at the Indian girl, and the Indian girl 
 at her. I should have liked cordiality between 
 them, but I did not expect it. The woman 
 would do her best, but she would not know how. 
 I had come to think her gracious by nature, 
 and she would treat this girl with courtesy, but 
 she was a great lady while Singing Arrow was a 
 squaw, and she would remember it. Yet Sing 
 ing Arrow, even though she might admit her 
 inferiority to a white man, would think herself 
 the equal of any woman of whatever rank or 
 race. I could not see how the gulf could be 
 bridged. 
 
 But bridged it was, and that oddly. The 
 woman stood for a moment half smiling, and 
 then suddenly tears gathered in her eyes. She 
 put out her hand to Singing Arrow, and the 
 Indian took it, and they walked together back 
 into the trees. They could not understand each 
 other, and I wondered what they would do. But 
 later I heard them laughing. 
 
 Well, the woman was destined to surprise me, 
 and she had done it again. I had thought her 
 too finely woven and strong of fibre to be easily 
 emotional. It was some hours before it came to 
 me that she had not been with another woman 
 since the night the savages had found her in the
 
 198 MONTLIVET 
 
 Connecticut farmhouse. All the world had been 
 a foe to be feared and parried except myself, 
 and I had been a despot. Perhaps she did not 
 know herself. Perhaps she would welcome Ben 
 jamin Starling after all. No matter what her 
 horror of him, she could at least be natural with 
 him, if only to show her scorn.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE STORM 
 
 WE embarked in good season that morning and 
 followed the line of the peninsula in its slant 
 to the southwest. It was a pleasant shore, lime 
 stone-scarped and tree-bannered, and we pad 
 dled so near to it that the squirrels scolded at us, 
 and a daisy-spotted fawn crashed through the 
 young cedars and stared at us with shy eyes. 
 The birds were singing and calling like maids 
 in a hayfield, and the woman sat with her back 
 straight and her eyes laughing, and imitated each 
 new note as the breeze brought it to her. She 
 did it fairly well, but Singing Arrow could have 
 done it better. In my heart I commended the 
 Indian for sitting silent, for I knew that the 
 vanity of her sex and the inherent boastfulness 
 of her savage blood must both be whispering to 
 her that this was the place to show her superior 
 ity. But she resisted. 
 
 I had taken her in the canoe with the woman 
 and myself, and putting Pierre in her canoe 
 had bidden him follow. I was well satisfied to 
 keep them apart for a time. Yet no sister of 
 the Ursulines could have been more exemplary
 
 200 MONTLIVET 
 
 with her glances than this Indian was just then. 
 She sat like a figure of destiny and watched the 
 woman. Whether she admired or not I should not 
 know till I saw whether she intended to imitate. 
 
 Cadillac s letter lay heavy in my pocket that 
 day and disinclined me to speech. Should I show 
 it to the woman and ask her what she would like 
 to do ? And having asked her, should I let her 
 preference warp my final decision ? I was not 
 sure. The manner of my life had confirmed me 
 in my natural inclination to decide things for my 
 self and take no counsel. And now all my desires 
 called out to me to destroy this letter and say no 
 thing. Why should I wish to meet Lord Starling ? 
 And by keeping out of the way I should be play 
 ing into Cadillac s hands and therefore further 
 ing my own ends. Yet the woman! After all, 
 Starling was her cousin. Had she not the 
 right to choose for herself whether she should see 
 him ? My training and instinct said no to this 
 last question. Women were made to be cared 
 for, at whatever cost, but not to be taken into 
 confidence as to ways and means. Still I 
 had entered into a bond with this woman. I 
 breathed hard. I had always been restive under 
 any bond, though by nature plodding enough 
 when it was removed. I was aware that I was 
 but sullen company while I rolled this matter 
 in my mind.
 
 THE STORM 201 
 
 The day was warm, and by afternoon soaring 
 pinions of cloud pushed up from the western 
 horizon. I watched their white edges curl and 
 blacken, and when they began to be laced with 
 red lightning I said to the woman that we 
 should have to land. 
 
 " Though I hoped to make the Sturgeon Cove," 
 I added idly. 
 
 The breeze was rising, drawing sharp criss 
 cross furrows on the water, and I noticed how 
 it ruffled the woman s hair; her hair was like 
 her eyes, a warm red-brown. 
 
 "What is Sturgeon Cove?" she asked. "Is 
 it a bay, a larger one than we have passed ?" 
 
 I took a rough map from my wallet and 
 handed it to her. "Much larger, you see," I 
 said. "It almost bisects the peninsula. Only 
 the Sturgeon portage, about a mile long, sepa 
 rates it from the lake of the Illinois. We must 
 be near it now." 
 
 She gave but a look at the map, then glanced 
 at the cloud-streaked west and at the shore. 
 
 "Try to make it. Try to reach Sturgeon 
 Cove," she urged. 
 
 I was thinking of something else, so I an 
 swered her only by a shake of the head. Per 
 haps that angered her. At all events she smote 
 her palms together with a short, soft little clap, 
 such as I use when I call my dog.
 
 202 MONTLIVET 
 
 "I do not wish to land here," she said, throw 
 ing back her head at me quite as she had done 
 when I thought her a boy. "I wish to go on. 
 Why not?" 
 
 I motioned Pierre to the shore. " Because you 
 would get wet," I answered stoically. 
 
 She flushed as redly as if I had hurt her. 
 "And if I did?" she cried. "Better discom 
 fort than this constant humiliation. Monsieur, 
 I refuse to be made a burden of in this fashion. 
 It is not fair. You made your plans to reach 
 a certain point, and you would go on, rain or 
 otherwise, if it were not for me. For me, for 
 me, for me ! I am sick of the sound of the words 
 in my own brain. I am sick of the excuse. 
 Each added sacrifice you make for me weighs 
 me like lead. It binds me. I cannot endure 
 the obligation. Believe me, monsieur." 
 
 I had no choice but to believe her. Yet she 
 stopped with a gasp of the breath, as if she had 
 said too much, or perhaps too little, as if she 
 were dissatisfied. Well, I had but scant desire 
 to reply. I should have liked to walk away, 
 and rebelled in my heart at our forced near 
 ness in the canoe. My feeling was not new. 
 When I had thought her a man she had antago 
 nized me in spite of my interest; as a maid she 
 had troubled me, and now as my wife I found 
 that she had already pow r er to wound. Still,
 
 THE STORM 203 
 
 with all rny inner heat, I could look as it were 
 in a mirror and understand her unhappiness 
 and vexation. She was trying to act towards 
 me with a man s fairness and detachment, but 
 each move that I made showed that I considered 
 her solely as a woman and therefore an encum 
 brance. Let her act with whatever bravery 
 and wisdom she might, her sex still enmeshed 
 us like a silken trap. We could not escape 
 it. And it was a fetter. Mask it as courteously 
 as I would, the fact remained that it was un 
 doubtedly a fetter. I felt a certain compassion 
 for her and her forced dependence, and said to 
 myself that I would hide my own soreness. But 
 her words had bitten, and I am not a patient 
 man. 
 
 I turned my canoe inland, and looked to it 
 that the others did the same. Then I leaned 
 toward her. 
 
 " No, we will land here," I said. " Madame, I 
 am frequently forced to look behind your words, 
 which are sharp, and search for your meaning, 
 which is admirable. You resent being an encum 
 brance. May I suggest that you will be less one 
 if you follow my plans without opposition ? I 
 mean no discourtesy, madame, when I say that 
 no successful expedition can have two heads in 
 control." 
 
 With all her great self -discipline in some di-
 
 204 MONTLIVET 
 
 rections, she had none in others, and I braced 
 myself for her retort. But none came. Instead 
 she looked at me almost wistfully. 
 
 "I lose my temper when I wish I did not," she 
 said. " But I should like to help you, monsieur." 
 
 I laid down my paddle. "Help is a curious 
 quantity," I replied. " Especially here in the wil 
 derness where what we say counts for so lit 
 tle and what we are for so much. I think, it 
 comes to me now, madame, you have given 
 me strength more than once when you did not 
 suspect it. So you need not try to help me con 
 sciously. But now I need your counsel. Will 
 you read this?" and I took Cadillac s letter from 
 my pocket and handed it to her. 
 
 She examined the seal with amazement as I had 
 done, then looked at Singing Arrow. "The In 
 dian brought this ? It must be very important. 
 Ought I Is it right for me to see it, mon 
 sieur ?" 
 
 I laughed. I looked off at the piling thunder- 
 caps and the ruffling water, and the exhilara 
 tion of the coming storm whipped through me. 
 There was a pleasant tang to life. 
 
 " Read it, yes," I insisted. ;< You are Madame 
 de Montlivet. No one can have a better right. 
 Read it after we land." 
 
 It took some moments to make a landing, for 
 the waves were already high and the shore
 
 THE STORM 205 
 
 rough. In spite of ourselves we tore the canoes on 
 hidden rocks. We unloaded the cargo and had 
 things snug and tidy by the time the first great 
 drops plumped down upon us. We worked like 
 ants, and I did not look at the woman. I knew 
 that she was reading the letter, and I had no wish 
 to spy. 
 
 But when I went to her there was no letter in 
 sight. I did not stop to talk, but I wrapped her 
 in the cloak that Onanguisse had given her, and 
 wound her still further with blankets. ; You 
 will be cool enough in a few minutes," I assured 
 her, and I made a nest for her in a thicket of 
 young pines. She obeyed me dumbly, but with 
 a certain gentleness, a sort of submission. As 
 she gazed up at me with her brown face and 
 inscrutable eyes, my hands were not quite steady. 
 Heretofore I had felt her power; now I felt only 
 her inexperience, her dependence. Child, wo 
 man, sphinx! What should I do with her? I 
 turned away. The rain was upon us in ear 
 nest. 
 
 I looked for my crew. The men were curled 
 under trees, but Singing Arrow had used more 
 craft. She had hidden herself under her light 
 canoe, which she had first secured with pegs 
 that it might not blow away, and she lay as 
 compact and comfortable as a tree-housed grub. 
 I lifted the corner of the canoe and peered
 
 206 MONTLIVET 
 
 at her, whereat she giggled happily, serene in 
 the thought that I was wet while she was dry. 
 She was as restful to the brain as a frolicking 
 puppy, and I shook my head at her to hear her 
 giggle again. I was about to wonder whether 
 she had ever known awe of anything, but just 
 then the thunder, which had been merely growl 
 ing, barked out like a howitzer above us, and 
 she covered her head and screamed like any of 
 her sex. 
 
 The thunder sent me back to the woman. I 
 crept, wet as I was, into her pine-needled hollow, 
 and started to ask if she were afraid. But the 
 question died at sight of her. She was propped 
 on her elbows, and had parted the low boughs 
 in front of her that she might look out at the 
 storm. She turned at sound of me, and the 
 blood was in her cheeks as I felt it in mine. 
 
 "Come," she cried with her motion. 
 
 I went and lay close beside her, peering, as she 
 did, through the trees. The world was all wind 
 and red light and churning water. I could feel 
 her quick breathing. 
 
 "I can hear the spirit of the wilderness cry 
 ing," she said to me. The lightning played over 
 her face and eyes, and they shone like flame. 
 
 I laid a hand on her wet blankets. " Has the 
 rain soaked through?" 
 
 But she did not listen. The exultation in her
 
 THE STORM 207 
 
 look I have seen sometimes in the face of a 
 young priest ; I have also seen it in a savage dan 
 cer. It is all one. It is the leaping response of 
 the soul to the call of a great freedom. Storm 
 was summoning storm. I found the woman s 
 hand, and lay with it in mine. 
 
 She remembered me again after a time. 
 "Does it call to you?" she cried. 
 
 I could feel the blood racing in her palm. 
 "As it does to you," I answered, and I lay still, 
 and let the storm riot in me, and around me, 
 with her hand held close. 
 
 We could not speak for some time. The 
 thunder was constant, and the play of the light 
 ning was like the dazzle of a fencer s sword. 
 Mingled with the thunder came the slap of froth 
 ing water and the whine of bending trees. The 
 wind was ice to the cheeks. 
 
 At the first lull the woman turned to me. " If 
 you had followed my wishes we should have been 
 drowned." 
 
 I nodded. I had no wish to speak. The 
 storm in me was not lessening. I kept the wo 
 man s hand and was swept on by the tempest. 
 
 And the woman, too, lay silent. I saw her 
 look at me once, and look away. And then, be 
 cause I could think more coherently, it came to 
 me that she had changed. The change had 
 come since she had read Cadillac s letter. She
 
 208 MONTLIVET 
 
 had said nothing, but she was different. What 
 did it mean ? Was she natural at last because 
 she thought succor was near? I was not ready 
 to know. The moments that I had now were 
 mine. Ten minutes later they might, if she de 
 creed, belong to Benjamin Starling. 
 
 The storm passed as swiftly as the shifting of 
 a tableau. The rain stopped, not lingeringly, 
 but as if a key had been turned, and cracks 
 came in the clouds like clefts in black ice and 
 showed the blue beyond. In five minutes the sun 
 was shining. We all crept out from under trees 
 and canoes, and shook ourselves like drenched 
 fowls. 
 
 It was magic the way the world changed. The 
 wind died, and the sun shone low and yellow, 
 and a robin began to sing. The water was still 
 white and fretting, and the sand was strewn with 
 torn leaves, but otherwise there was peace. I 
 told Pierre to take one of the men and find dry 
 fuel for a fire, and Labarthe to take the other 
 and attend to gumming the canoes. Then I 
 went to the woman, who had slipped dry and 
 red-cheeked from her wrappings, and was walk 
 ing in the sun. 
 
 "Well, Madame Montlivet," I said, with a 
 bow, "what shall we do about Monsieur Cadil 
 lac s letter?" 
 
 There was laughter in my voice, and it con-
 
 THE STORM 209 
 
 fused her. "What shall we do?" she echoed 
 doubtfully. "Did you mean to say we ?" 
 
 I bowed again. " We assuredly. It must 
 be a joint decision. Come, it is for you to de 
 clare your mind. Do we seek Lord Starling, 
 do we hide from him, or do we stand still and 
 let Fate throw the dice for us? What do you 
 wish, madame?" 
 
 She looked at me with a little puzzled with 
 drawal. "Why do you laugh?" she asked. 
 
 I was loath to vex her. But, indeed, I could 
 not check the tide of joyous excitement that was 
 surging through me. " I do not know quite why 
 I laugh," I answered truly. "Perhaps it is be 
 cause the sun is shining, and because life looks 
 so fair and rich and full of possibilities. But, 
 madaine, we have been tragic too long; it irks us 
 both. Tell me, now. It rests with you. Shall 
 we paddle northwest and search for your cousin, 
 Lord Starling?" 
 
 She thought a moment. You wish it ?" 
 
 "No, madame." 
 
 She turned away. " Then why ask me ? You 
 said there could not be two heads in this com 
 mand." 
 
 I sobered. "Now that was a cat s scratch," 
 I rebuked. ; You have never done that before." 
 
 The gentleness of her look made me ashamed. 
 You are suspicious of me," she said a little
 
 210 MONTLIVET 
 
 sadly. "That was not a scratch, monsieur. I 
 said what I mean ; I prefer to leave the decision 
 in your hands." 
 
 "But your wish?" 
 
 "It is confused, monsieur." 
 
 "But your sense of justice in the matter?" 
 
 She was silent a moment, and walked up and 
 down. "I have been trying to see the right ever 
 since I read the letter," she said quietly. This 
 is the best answer I can make. I think that we 
 had better avoid meeting Lord Starling, mon 
 sieur." 
 
 I stepped to her side and matched my pace to 
 hers. The robin had been joined by his mate, 
 and they were singing. "Why, madame?" I 
 asked her, and when she was still silent I per 
 sisted. "Why, madame?" 
 
 She lifted grave eyes to me. "I think it will 
 be wise to keep Lord Starling in the wilderness 
 as long as possible," she answered. "If he does 
 not find me it may be that he will keep on 
 searching. He may not, but again he may. 
 On the other hand, if he finds me he will as 
 suredly go home." 
 
 "And if he does go home? I assure you the 
 wilderness is no sweeter in my eyes while he is 
 here." 
 
 She handed me Cadillac s letter. "I think 
 that you know what I mean," she said. "Your
 
 THE STORM 211 
 
 commandant is a wise man. Monsieur, I do 
 not understand Lord Starling s purpose in this 
 journey, but I am afraid that Monsieur de la 
 Mothe-Cadillac is right. My cousin may be 
 treating secretly with the Indians. He is a capa 
 ble man, and not easy to read. I do not know 
 why he should be here." 
 
 I looked down at her. "But I know. He is 
 here to find you. Have you forgotten what I said 
 to you yesterday morning ? He will not rest till 
 he has found you. Ought we to save him anxiety ? 
 I can understand that he has suffered." 
 
 But she shook her head, and her eyes as she 
 looked up at me showed the deep sadness that 
 always seemed, while it lasted, to be too rooted 
 ever to be erased. 
 
 You are an idealist, monsieur. You believe 
 in man s constancy as I do not. I cannot believe 
 that I am the moving cause of Lord Starling s 
 journey. He would undoubtedly like to find me, 
 for I am of his house and of use to him, but he 
 has other purposes. Of that I am sure." 
 
 I grew cruel because I was glad; there is no 
 thing so ruthless as happiness. " And you would 
 thwart his purposes, madame?" I cried. 
 
 She looked at me coldly. " I will not be used 
 as a tool against you," she said. 
 
 "And that is all?" 
 
 "It is enough. I have said this to you many
 
 212 MONTLIVET 
 
 times. Why do you make me say it again ? I 
 have undertaken to do something, and I will carry 
 it through. I will not lend myself to any plot 
 against your interests. I will not. So long as we 
 are together, I will play the game fair." 
 
 "And when we are no longer together?" 
 
 She pushed out her hands. "I do not know. 
 I am glad that you asked me that. Monsieur, 
 if any chance should free us from each other, if 
 we should reach Montreal in safety, why, then, 
 I do not know. I come of an ambitious race. 
 It may be that I shall use the information that 
 I have. I love my country as you do yours, and 
 when a woman has had some beliefs taken from 
 her there is little remaining her but ambition. 
 So let me know as little as possible of your plans, 
 for I may use my knowledge. I give you warn 
 ing, monsieur." 
 
 The happiness in me would not die, and so, 
 perhaps, I smiled. She looked at me keenly. 
 
 You think that I am vaunting idly," she said. 
 "Perhaps I am. I do not know what I shall 
 do. But, monsieur, for your own sake do not 
 underestimate my capacity for doing you harm. 
 I mean that as a gauge." 
 
 She stood against the sunset, and her delicate 
 height and proud head showed like a statue s. 
 I stooped and lifted an imaginary glove from the 
 sand.
 
 THE STORM 213 
 
 "I take your gauge," I said. "But I find it a 
 small and delicate gauntlet for so warlike a pur 
 pose. May I wear it next my heart, madame ?" 
 
 She looked at me proudly. " I am serious," she 
 said. 
 
 "And I take you seriously," I rejoined. I 
 stepped to her and let my hand touch hers. 
 ; You wrong me. I find that I take you very 
 seriously indeed. Believe me. But I have al 
 ways lived in the present. Come, we have been 
 grave long enough. Let us be children and take 
 the passing moment. Madame, Montreal is very 
 far away."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 AFTER THE STORM 
 
 WE slept at that place that night, and the 
 stars came out clear, and the water on the sand 
 sang like a harp played by the wind. I slept, 
 but I dreamed. I thought that Lord Starling 
 came to me, and that the woman went away. 
 And then the dream shifted, and I stood in a 
 strange, barren mist-world, and I was alone. 
 I saw the awful loneliness of creation, and 
 immensity stretched around me. I traveled 
 through infinite spaces of void and blackness, 
 and found no sound of voice or life, yet all the 
 time, welling high within me, was a tide, the 
 fullness of which I had never known in my 
 waking hours. All the strength that I had 
 hoarded, all the desire for love that I had pushed 
 aside, all of the fierce commotions of unrest that 
 mark us from the brute, stirred in me till I felt 
 as if I were suffocating, and cried out for a help 
 ing hand. But I was alone, and gray wastes sur 
 rounded me, and my surge of feeling beat itself 
 out against desolation. I woke with sweat on my 
 forehead. 
 
 I woke to a black night. The stars looked
 
 AFTER THE STORM 215 
 
 cold, and the men beside me lay as if dead. I 
 looked up and watched the roll of the planets. 
 The mystery of infinity which lies naked at mid 
 night in the wilderness drives some men mad. 
 Heretofore I had been untouched by it except 
 with delight. Now I crept cautiously to my feet 
 and went softly to the woman. 
 
 I know that I stepped without sound, but as 
 I stood for a moment looking down at the couch 
 of boughs where she lay I heard a guarded whis 
 per. 
 
 "Monsieur, monsieur." 
 
 I bent over her. Her eyes were not only open, 
 but wakeful, and her small face looked white 
 against the dark blanket. 
 
 "What is it, monsieur?" she whispered. 
 
 I knelt that I might answer softly. "I woke, 
 and thought you were in danger. I came to look 
 at you and be sure that all was well. You do not 
 sleep, madame?" 
 
 She shook her head. " I slept, but I dreamed. 
 And you, monsieur?" 
 
 "I, too, have dreamed." 
 
 I thought that she smiled at me, though her 
 face, when I leaned to see it clearly, blurred into 
 the dark. 
 
 "Will you sleep the rest of the night within 
 sound of my voice?" she asked, with a little 
 tremble in her whisper. "The wilderness to-
 
 216 MONTLIVET 
 
 night is like that storm. Its greatness terri 
 fies me. Do you think that all is well, mon 
 sieur?" 
 
 I was glad that she could not see my face. 
 "Yes, I think that all is very well," I answered. 
 " Blessedly well. Sleep, now, madame. I shall 
 stay here, and your whisper would wake me. Is 
 there terror in the wilderness now ?" 
 
 Again she shook her head. "No," she whis 
 pered. 
 
 I lay beside her couch and cushioned my 
 head in my arm. I had answered her truly. 
 All was very well with me, for at last I saw 
 clearly; I knew myself. The dream, the night, 
 and something that I could not name, had 
 stripped me naked to my own understanding. 
 I felt as if, man that I had thought myself, I 
 had played with toys until this moment, and 
 that now, for the first time, I was conscious of 
 my full power for joy or suffering. I looked up 
 through the star spaces and was grateful for 
 knowledge, for knowledge even if it brought 
 pain. 
 
 I had not lain this way long when I heard her 
 stir. 
 
 "Monsieur," came her whisper. 
 
 I lifted myself to my knees. Yes, ma- 
 dame." 
 
 "You were not asleep?"
 
 AFTER THE STORM 217 
 
 " No, madame." 
 
 " Monsieur, I was loath to disturb you, but I 
 cannot sleep. Tell me. Suppose that Lord 
 Starling should find us. Will he have power to 
 take me? " 
 
 "Away from your husband? How could he, 
 madame?" 
 
 She stirred, and turned her face from me, 
 even though I could not see it in the dark. 
 
 " But he has a warrant," she whispered. " The 
 letter said that you must deliver me to my cousin 
 if we were found. What will be done with you, 
 monsieur, if you refuse to obey ? " 
 
 Then I bent close and let her hear me laugh 
 softly. 
 
 "I know of no warrant that applies to you," 
 I murmured. "Cadillac s letter mentioned an 
 Englishman. I know of none such. I travel 
 with a woman, my wife, and commandants have 
 naught to do with us. Was that what was trou 
 bling you, madame?" 
 
 She bowed, and her breath came unevenly. 
 Her right hand lay outside the blanket, and I 
 bent and touched it with my lips. 
 
 "How you hate Lord Starling! How you 
 hate him!" I whispered. "I wonder, can you 
 love as singly ? Can you love with as little care 
 for self and comfort and for all the fat conven 
 iences of life ? Madame, you are a willful child
 
 218 MONTLIVET 
 
 to lie here and tilt at shadows when you should 
 be garnering strength by sleep. I promised you 
 my sword and my name, and I agreed that they 
 should both be yours till of your own wish you 
 should send me away. Had you forgotten that 
 I promised ? I had not." 
 
 I had slipped to my knees again and rested 
 with my forehead on her hand. I could feel her 
 other hand stray toward me. 
 
 "No," she whispered. "No, I had not for 
 gotten, but the dark and a sudden loneliness 
 made me a coward. Thank you. It is over 
 now and I will sleep. Monsieur, my partner, I 
 will say good-night, and this time I will not call 
 you." 
 
 But I rested a moment longer on my knees 
 with my head against her palm. Then I 
 rose. 
 
 "Partners, perhaps," I said softly. Yet 
 more than that. Madame, are we not like pil 
 grims groping our way together on a dark road ? 
 We cannot see far ahead, but there is a light 
 in the distance. I think that we shall reach 
 it. Good-night. We shall both sleep now T , ma- 
 dame." 
 
 But she slept and I did not. It was nearly 
 day when I closed my eyes again, yet I did not 
 find the moments long. 
 
 The next morning was quiet and the sky
 
 AFTER THE STORM 219 
 
 clear. I had read my maps rightly, and once 
 embarked, an hour of paddling brought us to 
 Sturgeon Cove. It opened before us suddenly, 
 a wedge of flecked turquoise laid across the 
 shaded greens of the peninsula. As we entered 
 it a flock of white gulls rose from the rocky 
 shore and flew before us. The air, rain washed, 
 was so limpid that it seemed a marvel that it 
 could sustain the heavy-pinioned birds, but they 
 moved in sure curves and seemed to bear us 
 with them. I pointed the woman s glance 
 toward them. 
 
 "An omen. We shall follow them and rest 
 here. It is our home." 
 
 We nosed our way, with leisurely paddles, 
 close to the northern shore. The land sloped 
 gently from the beach, and the quivering water, 
 a faded green from the tree shadows, crawled 
 over gravel that was patterned with the white 
 of quartz and with the pomegranate of car- 
 nelian. It was a jeweled pavement, and it led 
 to forest aisles where cathedral lights splashed 
 through the trees. But I would not stop. The 
 gulls were still leading. 
 
 The bay narrowed, and the shores pressed 
 close to us, with compact ranks of cedars held 
 spearwise. Yet we pushed on, and the water 
 path spread out once more, a final widening. 
 We saw before us the rounded end of the bay,
 
 220 MONTLIVET 
 
 and the neck of land that formed the Sturgeon 
 portage. The woman looked at me. 
 
 "What now, monsieur?" 
 
 But I smiled at her with my conceit untrou 
 bled. I had seen reeds close to the northern shore. 
 "Halt!" I cried to the canoes. 
 
 We lay quiet a moment, and the birds glan 
 cing back at us found us suddenly harmless. 
 The reeds under them were swarming with 
 young fish. The gulls looked down and 
 squawked in a hungry chorus. In a moment 
 they lighted, balancing their great wings like 
 reefing sails. 
 
 I laughed as I looked at the woman. It was 
 a small triumph, but intoxication breeds easy 
 laughter. I had been drinking deep that morn 
 ing of a sparkling happiness more disturbing than 
 any wine. 
 
 We sent the canoes shoreward into the curve 
 where the reeds lay. The stiff green withes 
 rattled against our canoes like hail, and gave 
 warning of our approach for a half mile distant. 
 I nodded my inner approval. 
 
 "The gulls are wise," I said to the woman. 
 "We could not plan a better water defense to our 
 camp." 
 
 The grass came down to the water, arid we 
 pulled the canoes over short turf and into beds 
 of white blossoms. A cloud of butterflies rose
 
 AFTER THE STORM 
 
 to greet us ; they too were satin-white, the color 
 that a bride should wear, and they fluttered over 
 us without fear. The smell of the grasses rose 
 like incense. With all the light and perfume 
 there was a sense of quiet, of deep content and 
 peace. Even the woods that fringed the meadow 
 seemed kindly. They did not have the som 
 bre awe of the heavy timber, but looked sun 
 drenched and gay. 
 
 "We shall stay here," I said. "Unload the 
 canoes." 
 
 Five men with good sinews, some understand 
 ing, and well-sharpened axe blades, can make a 
 great change in the forest in one day. When the 
 sunset found us I had a fortified house built for 
 my wife. It was framed of fragrant pine, and 
 occupied the extremity of a spit of land that lay 
 next the meadow. Its door opened on the water, 
 and I made the opening wide so that the stars 
 might look in at night. All about the sides and 
 rear of the house were laid boughs, one upon 
 another, and on the top of this barricade was 
 stretched a long cord threaded with hawk s bells. 
 The lodges for myself and the men we placed in 
 the rear, and behind them we laid still another 
 wall of brush to separate us from the forest. I 
 was satisfied with the defenses. With the reeds 
 in front and the brush behind, any intruder 
 would sound his own alarm.
 
 222 MONTLIVET 
 
 The woman took Singing Arrow and went to 
 her house early that night, but I sat late over my 
 charts and journal. I had much to study and 
 more to plan. 
 
 Yet I was abroad the next morning while the 
 stars were still reflected in the bay. Labarthe 
 was with me, and we took Singing Arrow s light 
 canoe and packed it with supplies and merchan 
 dise. Then we breakfasted on meal and jerked 
 meat and were ready to start. 
 
 But the rest of the men were not yet astir, and 
 the woman s house was silent. I walked to it 
 and stood irresolute. I disliked to w T ake her. 
 Yet I could not leave her without some message. 
 But while I pondered I heard her step behind 
 me. She came up from the water, and she 
 looked all vigor and morning gladness. 
 
 "Why the canoe so early?" she called. "Do 
 we have fish for breakfast?" 
 
 I took her hand. "Come with me to the 
 water." I led her to the canoe and pointed out 
 the bales of supplies. You see we are ready for 
 work. We shall be back in a few days." 
 
 She dropped my hand. "Then why did you 
 build that house?" 
 
 "Why not, madame?" 
 
 "But you say that we are to go this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 "I must go, madame."
 
 AFTER THE STORM 223 
 
 "And you intend to leave me here ?" 
 
 "Why, yes, madame." 
 
 "But you said we. " 
 
 I looked some amazement. "I take Labarthe 
 with me. I leave three men with you on guard. 
 There is nothing to fear." 
 
 And then she threw back her head. "I do 
 not think that I am afraid," she said more 
 quietly. "But I was not prepared for this. 
 It had not occurred to me that you would go 
 away." 
 
 I stopped a moment. "I do not go for plea 
 sure. Indeed, I cannot imagine a fairer spot in 
 which to linger and forget the world. But did 
 you think that I would sit in idleness, ma- 
 dame?" 
 
 She looked down. "I do not know that I 
 thought at all about it. It has gone on like a 
 play, a dream. Perhaps I thought it would con 
 tinue. Your plan is to travel from tribe to tribe, 
 and come back here at intervals ?" 
 
 "That is my plan. I shall buy furs and 
 cache them here. I shall try not to be away 
 more than a week at a time. I regret that I sur 
 prised you. I did not think but that you under 
 stood." 
 
 She stood biting her lips and smiling to her 
 self in half-satiric, half -whimsical fashion. "It 
 says little for my intelligence that I was unpre-
 
 224 MONTLIVET 
 
 pared. You are a man, not a courtier. I should 
 have known that you would not waste an hour. 
 I wish that I might go with you." 
 
 "Madame, I wish it, too." 
 
 She looked up more briskly. " But that would 
 be impossible. Have you instructions for me, 
 monsieur?" 
 
 "Madame, if you are afraid, come with me." 
 
 " I am not afraid if you say that it is safe, 
 monsieur." 
 
 "Thank you, madame. I think that it is en 
 tirely safe. Pierre is a good deal of a fool and 
 more of a knave, but in some few respects there 
 is no one like him; he is a rock. You are my 
 wife and in his charge. He will guard you abso 
 lutely." 
 
 "Are we in danger of attack?" 
 
 " I can imagine no possible reason for attack, 
 else I should not leave you. The Indians 
 are friendly. One thing troubles me. Your 
 cousin - Should 
 
 She looked up. "Should Lord Starling find 
 me?" she completed. "Well, he would tarry 
 here until you came. He would at least show 
 that courtesy. I can promise as much as that 
 for the family name, monsieur." 
 
 I smiled at her. "I shall await the meeting," 
 I said with unction. I motioned Labarthe to the 
 paddle, and I kissed the woman s hand.
 
 AFTER THE STORM 225 
 
 "I salute your courage. I shall see you within 
 the week, madame." 
 
 She looked straight at me. " And until then, 
 good fortune." 
 
 But I paused. " Wish me opportunity. That 
 is all that I ask from you or of you, oppor 
 tunity. Good-by for a week, madame."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 IN WHICH I USE OPPORTUNITY 
 
 I SQUATTED beside many camp fires in the next 
 week. I sat in the flattened cones of the Chip- 
 pewas tepees and smoked innumerable pipes of 
 rank tobacco with the old men. I traded some, 
 but talked more, and at the end of the week I 
 started home. I waited for a pleasant day and a 
 westerly wind, for the small canoe was perilously 
 laden with skins. There was scarcely room for 
 Labarthe and myself to crowd down on our knees 
 and use our paddles. 
 
 We slipped into Sturgeon Cove late in the after 
 noon, and swept with the wind up the stretches 
 of the bay to the camping ground. Summer 
 was at flood tide, and the air was pungent and 
 the leaves shining. The sunset shone through 
 tattered ends of cloud, so that the west was hung 
 with crimson banners. It was my first home 
 coming. 
 
 Before we reached the camp I saw the wo 
 man. She had strayed down the shore to the 
 west, too far for safety, I thought, and was 
 standing alone on the sand, looking toward the 
 sunset. Her head was back, and her arms flung
 
 I USE OPPORTUNITY 227 
 
 out to the woods and the shining sky. I have 
 sometimes found myself stretching my own arms 
 in just that fashion when I have been alone and 
 have felt something pressing within me that was 
 too large for speech. I motioned Labarthe to 
 ship his paddle that I might look. The west 
 ern glow was full upon the woman, and her lips 
 were parted. The open sleeves of her skin 
 blouse fell away from her arms, which had grown 
 gently rounded since I saw her first. I could 
 not see her eyes, but she looked somewhere off 
 into the untraveled west, the west that was the 
 portal of my enterprise. What was her thought ? 
 I must not let myself trap it unaware. I gave a 
 long, low call ; the call of the loon as he skirts 
 the marshes in the twilight. 
 
 She turned instantly and saw us. I bent for 
 ward. The drabbled plume of my hat swept 
 the water, and I heard Labarthe curse under his 
 breath, and beg me remember that the canoe 
 was laden. But just then I had no caution in 
 me. 
 
 The woman s arms dropped. She had a mo 
 ment of indecision, and she stood looking at me 
 with the sunset in her face and eyes. Then 
 she suddenly thrust out both hands towards me 
 across the stretch of water. I could see her 
 smooth-skinned brown fingers, and one wore my 
 ring. She bade me welcome. I bent to my pad-
 
 228 MONTLIVET 
 
 die, and would have crashed the canoe up to the 
 shore. 
 
 But she forestalled me. She was already on 
 her way back to the camp, and if she knew that 
 I had started toward her she did not let me see. 
 So I had, perforce, to follow. She walked with 
 the free, gliding step of a woman whose foot had 
 been trained on polished surfaces. I watched 
 her, and let Labarthe paddle our way through the 
 reeds. 
 
 We reached the camp, deafened by Pierre s 
 bellow of greeting. The woman had kept pace 
 with us, and stood waiting for us to disembark. 
 She was breathing quickly and the blood was in 
 her brown cheeks; her great eyes were frankly 
 opened and shining. I pushed by the men and 
 bent to kiss her hand. 
 
 " Madame, thank you for my welcome home." 
 
 She bowed, and I caught the perfume of a 
 rose on her breast. "Monsieur, we are all re 
 joiced to see you safe." Her tone took, half- 
 whimsically, the note of court and compliment. 
 The fingers that I still held were berry stained. 
 She showed them to me with a laugh and a light 
 word, and so made excuse to draw them away. 
 Her hair had grown long enough to blow into 
 her eyes, and she smoothed a soft loose wave of 
 it as she questioned me about my voyage. 
 
 I was new to the wonder of seeing her there, so
 
 I USE OPPORTUNITY 229 
 
 answered her stupidly. For all my day-dreams 
 of the week that I had been away I was not 
 prepared for her. And indeed she had altered. 
 The strain of fear and incessant watchfulness was 
 removed, and with the lessening of that tension 
 had come a pliancy of look and gesture, a rich 
 ness of tone that found me unprepared. I made 
 but a poor figure. It was as well that work clam 
 ored at me, and that I had to turn away and direct 
 the men. 
 
 We ate our supper at the time of the last 
 daylight, and the whippoorwills were calling and 
 the water singing in the reeds. It was a silent 
 meal, but I sat beside the woman, and when it 
 was over I drew her with me to the shore. It was 
 very still. Fireflies danced in the grasses, and the 
 stars pricked out mistily through a gauze of cloud. 
 I wrapped the woman in her fur coat, and bade 
 her sit, while I stretched myself at her feet. Then 
 I turned to her. 
 
 " Madame, have you questions for me that you 
 did not wish the men to hear ? " 
 
 She sat very quietly, but I knew that her hand, 
 which was within touch of mine, grew suddenly 
 rigid. 
 
 " Monsieur, you heard nothing of Lord Star- 
 ling?" 
 
 I touched her hand lightly. "Nothing, ma- 
 dame. I have no news."
 
 230 MONTLIVET 
 
 "Then matters stand just as they did a week 
 ago?" 
 
 I hesitated. " As concerns Lord Starling, yes. 
 As concerns ourselves Madame, I carry a 
 lighter heart than I did. All this week I have 
 feared that you were fretting at the loneliness 
 and the rough surroundings. But I find you 
 serene and the surface of life smooth. It is a 
 gallant spirit that you bring to this situation. I 
 thank you, madame." 
 
 She did not speak for a moment, so that 
 I wondered if I had vexed her. I looked up 
 straight into her great eyes that were full on 
 me, and there was something disquietingly alight 
 in her glance, a flicker of that lightning that 
 had played between us on the day of the 
 storm. 
 
 "Monsieur!" she cried, with a little sobbing 
 laugh. " I beg you never to thank me for 
 anything. The stream of gratitude must always 
 run from me to you. I have not been serene 
 because of any will of mine. It has been in 
 stinctive. I can sometimes carry out a fixed 
 purpose, but I do it stiffly, inflexibly, not as you 
 do, with a laugh and a shrug, monsieur. No, 
 no! My serenity has not been calculated. I 
 have been - - I have been almost happy. It is 
 strange, but it is true." 
 
 I drew my hand away from her finger tips, for
 
 I USE OPPORTUNITY 231 
 
 my own were shaking. " Madame, what makes 
 you happy?" 
 
 She looked down at me with frank serious 
 ness, but her eyes still kept their sweet, strange 
 brightness ; she pressed her palms together as she 
 always did when much in earnest. 
 
 "Monsieur, is it so strange after all? Think 
 of the wonder of what I see about me! The 
 great stars, the dawns, and the strange waters 
 that go no one knows where. I have lived all 
 my life in courts and have not felt trammeled by 
 them, but now Monsieur, there is a freedom, 
 yes, and a happiness stirring in me that I have 
 not known. I wonder if you understand ? 
 
 I watched the starlight draw elfin lines across 
 her face, and my heart suddenly cried through 
 my tongue words that my brain would have for 
 bidden. 
 
 "I understand this at least. Madame, you 
 talk of happiness. I am finding happiness at 
 this moment that I never felt at court, no, nor 
 in the wilderness till now." 
 
 She did not draw back nor protest, but she 
 looked at me with wistful gravity. 
 
 " Monsieur - Monsieur " 
 
 "I am your servant, madame." 
 
 She halted. This is a masque, a comedy," 
 she stumbled. "This this life in the green 
 wood. Does it not seem a fantasy?"
 
 232 MONTLIVET 
 
 "You seem very real to me, madame." 
 
 "Monsieur, I tell you, it is a masque. Will 
 you not help me play it as such ?" 
 
 "You treat it as a masque in your own heart, 
 madame?" 
 
 She turned her face into the shadow. " I eat, 
 I sleep, I laugh with the birds, and I play with 
 Singing Arrow. I do not look ahead." She rose. 
 "Play with me. Play it is a dream, monsieur." 
 
 I rose and stepped beside her toward her 
 cabin. " I am a man," I said, with a short laugh 
 of my own. " I cannot spin words nor cheat my 
 self. But I shall not distress you. Do not fear 
 me, madame." 
 
 But her step lingered, You leave us soon ?" 
 
 "At dawn to-morrow." 
 
 "Monsieur! And you go" 
 
 "To the Winnebagoes. I shall return in a 
 week." 
 
 She clasped her hands behind her as if her 
 white cloak bound her. To the Winnebagoes, 
 - to another tribe of Indians ! Are you sure 
 that they are friendly? I forget that there are 
 Indians in the forest, since I see none here. Ah, 
 you must sleep now if you are to rise so early. 
 Good-night, and thank you, monsieur. Good 
 night." I had hardly bowed to her in turn be 
 fore her long light step had brought her to her 
 door.
 
 I USE OPPORTUNITY 233 
 
 And then I went back to work. The furs had 
 been sorted, labeled, and cached ; the canoe had 
 been dried, and its splints examined and new 
 bales of merchandise had been made up for the 
 trip on the morrow. But there remained much 
 writing and figuring to be gone over. It seemed 
 as if I had but closed my eyes when Labarthe 
 touched me on the shoulder and told me it was 
 dawn. 
 
 And out in the dawn I found the woman. She 
 had seen to it that the whole camp was astir, and 
 the fire was crackling and the kettle already puff 
 ing steam. The morning was austere and gray- 
 veiled, so that the red blaze was like the cheer 
 of home. We ate with laughter, and sleepy birds 
 scolded in the thickets. The woman sparkled 
 with dainty merriment that held my thanks at bay. 
 It was only when she waved her adieus at the 
 beach that she dropped her foils. 
 
 "I shall pray for fair winds, monsieur," she 
 called. 
 
 I looked back at her across the widening water. 
 " Madame, can you hear me ? The wind I pray 
 for will blow me back to you. 
 
 Metaphor aside, it was a favorable day and 
 the breeze was with us. We pushed up a tar 
 paulin on our paddles for a square sail, and cov 
 ered the distance to the west shore of La Baye 
 in a few hours. Before night we were lifting
 
 234 MONTLIVET 
 
 the rush mats that hung before the reed-thatched 
 lodges of the Winnebagoes. 
 
 And here for seven days I plied my trade. A 
 man has many coats and all may fit him. The 
 one that I wore in those days showed the bells 
 and ribands of the harlequin, but there was chain 
 armor underneath. I counted my results as sat 
 isfactory when I started home. 
 
 We did not reach the camp on this second 
 homecoming till after the stars were out. That 
 left me too few hours for a large labor, and I 
 had but hurried greetings from the woman while 
 all the camp looked on. The men were sleek 
 from idleness, and I had need to goad them with 
 word and eye. It was late before I could linger 
 at the woman s cabin and beg a word. She sat 
 with Singing Arrow, watching the soft night, and 
 again her first question was of her cousin. 
 
 You have heard nothing of Lord Star- 
 ling?" 
 
 Was this fear of him or a covert wish to meet 
 him? "Nothing, madame," I replied. "But I 
 have been to the south far out of your cousin s 
 way. I go next to the Malhominis. I think I 
 shall certainly hear tidings of him there." 
 
 You go to-morrow?" 
 
 " I must, madame. Madame, I have been anx 
 ious about you. Will you promise me not to 
 stray alone from the camp?"
 
 I USE OPPORTUNITY 235 
 
 She left the cabin and came and stood beside 
 me in the quiet and starshine. She looked off 
 at the forest. 
 
 "Is there danger around us, monsieur?" 
 
 I followed her look back into the dark timber. 
 We both hushed our breathing till we heard the 
 moan of the water and the lament of some 
 strange night bird. The woman was so small, 
 and yet I left her in the wilderness without me! 
 
 "Keep close to the camp," I said hoarsely. 
 "No, I know of no danger. But keep close to 
 the camp." 
 
 Her glance came back to me. "Ah, you do 
 think there is danger! But, monsieur, of your 
 self If there is peril for me there must be 
 more for you." 
 
 She looked at me fully, with no fear in her 
 eyes, but with quick, intelligent concern. She 
 stood beside me in the dusk, as wife should 
 stand with husband, and feared for my safety 
 and forgot her own. Yet I dared not touch her 
 hand. I lifted my sword and slammed it in its 
 scabbard. 
 
 "There is no danger," I said, with stupid 
 brusqueness. "I am over-anxious. I bid you 
 good-night, madame." 
 
 I went to the Malhominis with haste pushing 
 me, for I hoped for news of Starling. I pressed 
 forward, yet I recoiled. There would be cross-
 
 236 MONTLIVET 
 
 threads to untangle when I met my wife s 
 cousin. 
 
 It was wonderful voyaging to the Malhominis. 
 Their village was near the mouth of a river, and 
 they were close bound with great rice swamps 
 that gave them their name. Our low canoe bur 
 rowed through a tunnel of green as we nosed our 
 way up to their camp. Birds fluttered in the 
 tangle, and fish bubbled to the surface under 
 our paddles. I did not wonder that I found 
 the tribe as well fed as summer beavers. But I 
 learned nothing from them. They were a good- 
 natured people, as running over with talk as 
 idle women, and they assured me that I was the 
 first white man they had seen since the moon 
 of worms. We talked of the Huron situation 
 at Michillimackinac, but they said nothing of 
 having seen a warrior of that tribe, so I made 
 sure that Pemaou had not been with them. I 
 swallowed relief and disappointment. They said 
 that a small company of Sacs was encamped to 
 the north, and that Father Nouvel was with 
 them. So after a few days I went on. 
 
 A waft of fetid air on a hot day will bring the 
 smell of that Sac camp to me even now. The 
 Sacs were a migratory, brutish people, who 
 snatched at life red-handed and growling, and 
 as I squatted in their dirty hovels, I lost, like a 
 dropped garment, all sense of the wonder and
 
 I USE OPPORTUNITY 237 
 
 freedom of my wilderness life. Suddenly all 
 the forest seemed squalid, and a longing for the 
 soft ease and cleanliness of civilization came 
 on me like a wave. But I hid the feeling, and 
 lingered, though my welcome was but slight. 
 Even my small cask of brandy failed to buy their 
 smiles, and it was only when I talked of war 
 that they listened. They were a useless people 
 on the water, for they could not handle canoes, 
 but land warfare was their meat. So I talked 
 long. 
 
 I found Father Nouvel among them, his deli 
 cate old face shining white and serene amid 
 their grime. I fell upon him eagerly, but he 
 could tell me nothing. He had left the Potta- 
 watamies the day after the wedding, and had 
 heard no rumors of any Englishman. I did not 
 take him into my confidence. He had outlived 
 the time when the abstract terms " ambition " 
 and "patriotism" had meaning to him. The 
 story of my hopes would have tinkled in his ears 
 like the blarings of a child s trumpet. But in 
 one matter he questioned me. 
 
 :< Your wife, should you not have brought 
 her with you, monsieur?" 
 
 I felt piqued. " But her comfort, Father Nou 
 vel!" 
 
 He looked me over. "I think somehow that 
 she would prefer your company to her own com-
 
 238 MONTLIVET 
 
 fort," he said, and when I did not answer he 
 looked troubled. When he bade me good-by, 
 he spoke again. 
 
 Your wife came strangely near my heart. 
 You are giving her a hard life. You will be 
 patient with her, monsieur?" 
 
 I bowed, for I did not wish to answer. Mine 
 was a real marriage to Father Nouvel. I 
 thought of the look in the priest s eyes as he 
 made us man and wife, and of the voices of the 
 Indian women as they chanted of life and mar 
 riage, and I shut my teeth on a sudden feeling 
 of bitterness. A man may be counted rich yet 
 know himself to be a pauper. I never saw 
 Father Nouvel again. If he were living now I 
 would go far to meet him. 
 
 It was a long day s travel back to Sturgeon 
 Cove, and night had fallen before we wound our 
 passage around the curves of the bay and saw 
 the clear eye of the evening fire burning steadily 
 on the shore. Our double trip had taken eleven 
 days, and for me the time had lagged. I had 
 carried an unreasoning weight of oppression, and 
 the shout that I gave at sight of the black figures 
 around the blaze was an outburst of relief. 
 
 My company flung themselves at the shore, 
 and all talked at once. 
 
 "For three days we have watched," Singing 
 Arrow scolded.
 
 I USE OPPORTUNITY 239 
 
 The woman stood near, and I went to her. 
 "Have you watched for three days?" I asked, 
 with my lips on her hand. 
 
 Yes," she said, and then I felt ashamed, for 
 her eyes looked worn and troubled. 
 
 " Forgive me, madame," I murmured, though I 
 scarcely knew for what, and I felt embarrassed 
 and without words. 
 
 "I will stay here to-morrow," I said stupidly, 
 and when she said that she was glad, it did not 
 seem to me that she meant it. I saw her no 
 more that night. 
 
 But with the fresh morning I forgot all chill. 
 We lingered over a breakfast of broiled bass, 
 and the woman showed me a canoe that Simon 
 had made for her. Simon was the deft-fingered 
 member of my crew, and he had fashioned a 
 fairy craft. I saw that it would carry two, and 
 I said to the woman that we would take it, and 
 have a day of idleness together. I feared she 
 might demur, but she did not. Indeed, she sud 
 denly laughed out like a child without much rea 
 son, and there was that in the sound that satisfied 
 me, until I swore at the men and their blundering 
 to keep down my own joy. 
 
 We took materials for lunch and started be 
 fore the dew was dry. The woman showed me 
 her new skill with the paddle, and I praised 
 her without care for my conscience. We went
 
 240 MONTLIVET 
 
 slowly and we talked much. Yet we talked only 
 of the birds and the woods and the paddling. 
 Never of ourselves. 
 
 At noon we landed in a pocket of an inlet on 
 the south side of the cove toward its mouth. 
 There was a wonderful meadow there with tiger 
 lilies burning like blood and a giant sycamore 
 leaning to the water. I cooked a venison steak 
 on hot stones, and we had maize cakes and 
 wild berries and water from a spring. We sat 
 alone at meat as we had never done. 
 
 After lunch the woman sat under the syca 
 more and I lay at her feet. I looked up at her 
 till her eyes dropped. 
 
 "Madame," I whispered, "madame, you were 
 vexed with me last night." 
 
 She forced her glance to mine. "Monsieur, I 
 had been terribly anxious for three days. When 
 I saw you" 
 
 A sun ray fell across her face, and I took my 
 hat and held it between her and the light. 
 "You did not finish," I said. "I will help you. 
 When you saw that I was safe you were vexed 
 that I had not come earlier and so saved you 
 anxiety ? Is that what you were about to say, 
 madame?" 
 
 She turned to smile and shake her head at my 
 seriousness. She fought down her rising color 
 and held her head like a gallant boy.
 
 I USE OPPORTUNITY 241 
 
 " I was unreasonable," she said. " Please for 
 get it. Did your trading prosper, monsieur ? " 
 
 But I would not shift my eyes. "I shall try 
 not to vex you again in that way. I did not 
 think except of my own anxiety. Let me tell 
 you what I have been doing. I have been trad 
 ing, yes, but I have also" 
 
 "Careful, monsieur!" 
 
 "I wish you to know. Madame, I am suc 
 ceeding in my intriguing among the tribes. I 
 talk more than I trade. You would smile at my 
 rhetoric and call me a mountebank, but I am suc 
 ceeding. I tell the tribes that when more than 
 one Englishman reaches here the whole race will 
 follow and will overflow the hunting grounds as a 
 torrent does the lowlands. I tell them the English 
 will bring the Iroquois. I show them that the 
 French are their only protection. They listen, 
 for what I say is not new. It has been talked 
 around their fires for a long time, but the tribes 
 are not powerful enough to act alone, and they 
 have lacked a leader who could unite them. I 
 think that they will follow me if I call them to 
 war, madame! " 
 
 She looked at me steadily. " War upon whom, 
 monsieur?" 
 
 "War upon the Iroquois. Upon the English 
 if they venture near." 
 
 "And you tell me this because"
 
 242 MONTLIVET 
 
 "Because I wish sincerity between us." 
 
 My hat lay at her feet, and she pressed its sorry 
 plume between her fingers. "Monsieur, if you 
 had heard news of Lord Starling during this last 
 week you would have told me at once." 
 
 " I should have told you at once, madame. I 
 am glad you introduced this matter. Does your 
 mind still hold ? Or do you now think that we 
 should seek your cousin ? " 
 
 Again she lowered her eyes, but I did not miss 
 the sudden flash in them. " My cousin chose 
 his path. Why need we interfere ? Have you 
 have you theories as to where he can be ? " 
 
 I flicked my finger at a wandering robin. "I 
 am as guiltless of theories as that bird. It is 
 passing strange. Your cousin and our ghostly 
 Huron seem to have gone up in vapor." 
 
 "Our ghostly Huron, monsieur?" 
 
 I planted my elbows on the grass that I might 
 face her. "Listen, madame. It is time you 
 knew the story of Pemaou." And thereupon I 
 recited all that had happened between the Huron 
 and myself from the day when we had played at 
 shuttlecock with spears till the night when he 
 had shadowed us at the Pottawatamie camp, 
 the night before our wedding. I even told her 
 of the profile in his pouch. 
 
 She winced at that. "Why did you not tell 
 me before?"
 
 I USE OPPORTUNITY 243 
 
 "It seemed useless to alarm you. * 
 
 " But you tell me now." 
 
 I smiled at her. "I know you better. It 
 seems fitting to tell you everything now, ma- 
 dame." 
 
 She looked at me with a frown of worry. 
 "Monsieur, you are in danger from that Huron. 
 He hates you if you humbled him." 
 
 I laughed at her. "He would not dare harm 
 a Frenchman, madame." 
 
 "Then why does he follow you ?" 
 
 But there I could only shrug. " He was prob 
 ably in Lord Starling s pay, and was keeping 
 track of us that he might direct your cousin to us. 
 But we have shaken him off." 
 
 She thought this over for some time without 
 speaking, and I was content to lie silent at her feet. 
 Bees droned in the flowers and white drifts of after 
 noon clouds floated over us. I was happy in the 
 moment, and more than that, I was drugged 
 with my dreams of the future. There were days 
 and days and days before us. This was but the 
 threshold. And then, with my ear to the ground, 
 I heard the sound of an axe. The sound of an 
 axe in an untraveled wilderness ! 
 
 I crowded closer to the ground. My blood 
 beat in my temples, and I was awake with every 
 muscle. But I learned nothing. The sound of 
 an axe and then silence.
 
 244 MONTLIVET 
 
 The woman looked at me. "Monsieur, is 
 something wrong? Your face has changed." 
 
 I stretched out my hand to her. ; You must 
 not grow fanciful. But come. It is time to go 
 home, madame." 
 
 I pushed her into the canoe in haste, but when 
 we had once rounded the turn of the bluff we 
 floated home slowly. The light of late after 
 noon is warm and yellow. It cradled the woman 
 in lapping waves, and she sat glowing and fra 
 grant, and her eyes were mirrors of the light. I 
 dropped my paddle. 
 
 "Tell me more about yourself. Talk to me. 
 Tell me of your childhood," I breathed. 
 
 She put out her hand. "Monsieur! Our 
 contract!" 
 
 I let the canoe drift. "Madame, tell me the 
 truth. Why do you hold yourself so detached 
 from me ? Is it Madame, is it because you 
 fear that we shall learn to love each other, to 
 love against our wills ? " 
 
 She looked down. "It would be a tragedy if 
 we did, monsieur." 
 
 "You would think it a tragedy to learn to love 
 me?" 
 
 "It could be nothing else, monsieur." 
 
 The breeze took us where it willed. The 
 mother-of-pearl shimmer of evening was turn 
 ing the headlands to mist, and the air smelled
 
 I USE OPPORTUNITY 245 
 
 of cedar and pine. Tiny waves lapped com- 
 plainingly on the sides of our rocking canoe. I 
 leaned forward. 
 
 " Listen, madame, you know life. You know 
 how little is often given under the bond of mar 
 riage. You know how men and women live long 
 lives together though completely sundered in 
 heart, and how others though separated in life 
 walk side by side in the spirit. As this is so, 
 why do you fear to see or know too much of me ? 
 Propinquity does not create love." 
 
 Still she looked down. " Men say that it does, 
 monsieur." 
 
 "Then why are so many marriages unhappy? 
 No, madame, you know better than that. And 
 you know that if love should grow between us 
 it would sweep away your toy barriers like paper. 
 Nearness or absence would not affect it. Ma 
 dame, let me have your hand." 
 
 "No, no! Monsieur, I do not know you." 
 
 You shall know me better. Come, what is a 
 hand? There. Madame, would you prefer, from 
 now on, to travel in hardship with me rather than 
 be left in comfort here ?" 
 
 "I should indeed, monsieur." 
 
 "Then you shall go with me." 
 
 "But your work, monsieur!" 
 
 I released her hand and picked up my paddle. 
 "I see that Indian tribes are not my only con-
 
 246 MONTLIVET 
 
 cern," I explained. "I have other matters to 
 conquer. We shall not be separated from now 
 on." 
 
 She did not answer, and I paddled home in 
 silence with my eyes on her face. As we landed, 
 she gave me her hand. 
 
 "I do not care for supper, and am going to 
 my house. Good-night, monsieur." 
 
 I bowed over her hand. "Are you glad that 
 you are to travel with me and know me better ? 
 Are you glad, madame?" 
 
 She smiled a little. "I I think so, mon 
 sieur." 
 
 "You are not sure? Think of it to-night. 
 Perhaps you will tell me to-morrow. Will you 
 tell me to-morrow, madame?" 
 
 She drew back into the dusk. " Perhaps 
 to-morrow. Good-night, monsieur." 
 
 I walked through the meadow. I would not 
 eat supper and I would not work. Finally I 
 called Simon. He was a strange, quiet man, 
 not as strong as the others of the crew, but of 
 use to me for his knowledge of woodcraft. As 
 a boy he had been held captive by the Mohawks, 
 and he was almost as deft of hand and eye as 
 they. 
 
 " Have you seen any sign or sound of Indian or 
 white men in these three weeks?" I asked him. 
 
 He looked at me rather sullenly. "Yes. A
 
 I USE OPPORTUNITY 247 
 
 canoe went through here one night about a week 
 ago." 
 
 "Who was in it?" 
 
 "I do not know." 
 
 "You should have followed." 
 
 "I did." 
 
 "You should have reported to me." 
 
 He glowered at me with the eye of a rebel 
 lious panther. "I watched. The master went 
 away." Then he showed his teeth in open defi 
 ance. " I watched every night on the beach. The 
 master slept or went away." 
 
 I opened my mouth to order him under guard, 
 but I did not form the words. I thought of the 
 way that he had spent his days working on the 
 delicately fashioned canoe and his nights in keep 
 ing guard. And all for the woman. Women 
 make mischief in the wilderness. I grew pitiful. 
 
 "Watch again to-night," I said kindly, "and 
 you shall sleep to-morrow. Simon, I thought 
 that I heard the sound of an axe off the south 
 shore to-day. I shall take the small canoe at 
 daybreak and see what I can find. Tell the 
 camp I have gone fishing. I shall return by 
 noon. And, Simon" 
 
 "Yes, mastej." 
 
 "Madame de Montlivet is your special care 
 till I return."
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 IN THE MIST 
 
 I SLIPPED off in grayness the next morning. 
 There was a water fog that hugged me clammily, 
 and sounds echoed in it as in a metal canopy. 
 I could not have found my way in open water, 
 but here I could crowd tight to the shore and 
 keep my bearings. I took a keg of pitch with 
 me, for when I saw the weather I knew that I 
 would give the canoe many a scrape on rocks 
 and snags. 
 
 It was tedious traveling, and it seemed a long 
 time before I made my worming way around 
 every inequality in the shore and reached the in 
 let where we had eaten lunch. Here I lifted the 
 canoe, turned it bottom side up in the meadow, 
 and covered it with a sailcloth. I wanted it to 
 dry, and the air was still dripping moisture. I 
 had expected the fog to lift before this, but it 
 seemed to be growing heavier. 
 
 I tried to light my pipe, but the tobacco was 
 damp and would not burn. Slow drops drib 
 bled from the trees and the meadow was soggy. 
 Where should I go ? I could hear nothing, and 
 as for seeing anything I could have passed my
 
 IN THE MIST 249 
 
 own camp a rod away. It began to seem a fool s 
 errand. I thought of returning. 
 
 Perhaps it was a boyish feeling that took me 
 to the sycamore. I looked about. The ashes 
 of our little fire still lay in a rounded pile, and 
 at the edge of the pile, printed deep in the yield 
 ing surface, was a moccasin print. It was not 
 the woman s moccasin, nor my own boot. One 
 look showed me that. 
 
 And then I went over the surrounding ground. 
 I learned nothing, for pebbles and short grass 
 are as non-committal as a Paris pavement. The 
 print had been made before the mist fell, for the 
 dew was unb rushed. I looked at the encircling 
 forest, and its dripping uniformity gave no clue. 
 I knocked the charred tobacco from my pipe, 
 pulled my hat down on my ears, and plunged 
 straight ahead. 
 
 It was a fool s way of going at the matter, but 
 a fool has as good a chance as a philosopher 
 in such a case. I clove my way through the 
 mist as blind and breathless as a swimmer in 
 a breaker. The forest was thickly grown and 
 the trees stood about me as alike as water-reeds. 
 Whenever I touched one it pelted me with drops, 
 and I was numbed with cold. My feet slipped, 
 for the ground was slimy with wet. But I was 
 not thinking of comfort, nor of speed. I was 
 listening.
 
 250 MONTLIVET 
 
 For the strange, gray air was trembling with 
 echoes. Every snapped twig, every bird mur 
 mur, every brush of a padded foot on leaf mould 
 was multiplied many-fold. The fog was a 
 sounding-board. All the spectral space around 
 me, above me, below me was quivering and 
 talking. My very breath was peopled with mur 
 murs. I have been in many fogs, but none like 
 this one. If the spirits of the dead should revisit 
 us, they would whisper, I think, as the air whis 
 pered around me then. 
 
 How long I groped, learning nothing, I do 
 not know, for when the mind forgets the body 
 minutes may be long or short, and no count is 
 taken of them. But at last among the noises 
 that knocked at my ear came a new note. I 
 heard a human voice. 
 
 And then, indeed, I pressed all my faculties 
 into service. I put my ear to the wet ground 
 and strained it against tree trunks, trying to weed 
 out the myriad tiny whisperings that assailed 
 me and grasp that one sound that I wanted and 
 hold it clear. And at last I heard it unmis 
 takably; there were voices, more than one it 
 seemed. 
 
 My ears buzzed with my effort to listen. I 
 heard the sound, lost it, then heard it again. 
 It was like a child s game. I heard it, blun 
 dered after it, then it disappeared. I turned to
 
 IN THE MIST 251 
 
 go back, and it came behind and mocked me. 
 It was everywhere and nowhere. It came near, 
 then faded into silence. The fog suffocated me; 
 I found myself pressing at it with my hands. 
 
 Yet on the whole I made progress. In time 
 the voices grew clearer. There were several 
 of them, perhaps many. I heard shouting, 
 orders, presumably, and once a clink of metal, 
 an iron kettle it might have been. But the 
 sound was back of me, in front of me, at the 
 sides of me, above me. I could not hold it. 
 It reverberated like the drumming of a wood 
 cock that comes to the ear from four quarters at 
 once. And all the time the fog pressed on my 
 eyelids like a hand. 
 
 I had left my musket hidden under the canoe, 
 for I could not have used it in the dampness, 
 so I had only my knife for guard. I carried 
 it open, and made an occasional notch upon a 
 tree. Once I came to a notched tree a second 
 time. The old woodland madness was on me, 
 and I was stepping in circles. Yet the sounds 
 were growing clearer. They were approaching, 
 though I could not tell from what quarter. I 
 stood still. 
 
 What followed was like a dream; like the 
 dream that I had had the night after the storm 
 when I woke with sweat cold on me. The fog 
 pinioned me like a clammy winding-sheet; I
 
 252 MONTLIVET 
 
 could see nothing; I was too chilled to feel; I 
 was as alone and powerless as a lost canoe in the 
 ocean ; but somewhere on earth or in air I heard 
 a company of men pass me by. The sounds 
 were unmistakable. I heard the swish of wet 
 leaves, the pad of feet, and even the creak of the 
 damp leather of the carrying-straps. Something 
 cracked, pricking in my ears in a blur of sound, 
 and I knew that the men had brushed a branch 
 with the canoe that they were carrying on their 
 heads. They were near me; at any moment 
 they might come within touch of my hand. But 
 where were they? Whoever they were, what 
 ever they were, the wish to see them became an 
 obsession. I knew no feeling but my tingling 
 to get at them. I pushed to right and left. I 
 knocked against trees. The sounds were here, 
 then there. I could not reach them. They 
 taunted me as lost spirits tantalize a soul in 
 purgatory. Whichever way I turned they were 
 just out of my grasp. I clenched my hands and 
 swore that I would not be beaten. 
 
 But my pitiful little oath was all bluster and 
 impotent defiance. I was as helpless as a 
 squirming puppy held by the neck. I ran like 
 a madman, but I ran the wrong way. The in 
 visible crew passed me, and their voices faded. 
 I heard them melt, melt into nothing. A sound, 
 an impression, that had been all. Not even
 
 IN THE MIST 253 
 
 a gray shadow on the fog to show that I had 
 not been dreaming. I looked at my skinned 
 knuckles and disordered clothes, and a strange 
 feeling shook me. A certain rashness of tem 
 perament had all my life made me contemptu 
 ous of fear. But this was different. I tried to 
 laugh at myself, but could not. 
 
 It was a simple matter to retrace my route, 
 for I had left a trail like a behemoth s. And 
 one thought I chewed all the way back to the 
 meadow. If I could have done it over again 
 I should have called, and so have drawn what 
 ever thing it was toward me. That would have 
 been dangerous, and I might have paid the for 
 feit of a head that was not my own to part with, 
 but at least I should have seen what thing it 
 was that passed me in the fog. There began 
 to be something that was not wholly sound and 
 sane in the depth of my feeling that I ought, 
 at whatever cost, to have confronted that noise 
 and forced it to declare itself. 
 
 When I came to the meadow it was wet and 
 spectral. The fog had lifted somewhat and 
 now the air was curiously luminous. It ap 
 peared transparent, as if the vision could pierce 
 far-stretching reaches, but when I tried to peer 
 ahead I found my glance baffled a few feet 
 away. It was as if the world ended suddenly, 
 exhaled in grayness, just beyond the reach of
 
 254 MONTLIVET 
 
 my hand. It made objects remote and unreal 
 and singularly shining. I looked toward the syca 
 more, and my heart beat fast for a moment, 
 for I thought that a pool of fresh blood lay in 
 the grass where the woman and I had sat the 
 day before. But I looked again and saw that 
 it was only the bunch of red lilies that she had 
 plucked and worn and thrown away. I had 
 told her that their red was the color of war, and 
 she had let them drop to the ground. I went to 
 them and picked them up, and they left heavy, 
 scarlet stains upon my fingers. 
 
 When I went to the canoe I found it still 
 damp, but I uncovered it and went to work to 
 do what I could with the frayed seams. An 
 unreasoning haste had possession of me, and I 
 worked fumblingly and badly, like a man with 
 fear behind him. Yet I was not afraid. I was 
 consumed by the feeling that I must get back 
 to camp and to the woman without delay. 
 
 Kneeling to my work with my back to the 
 forest, strange noises came behind and begged 
 attention. But I would not look up. I had had 
 enough of visions and whisperings and a haunted 
 wood. I wanted my canoe and my paddle and 
 a chance to shoot straight and to get home. For 
 already I thought of the camp as home, and of 
 this meadow as a place where I had been held 
 for a long time. It was a strange morning.
 
 IN THE MIST 255 
 
 And so it was that even when I heard the 
 thud, thud of a man s step behind me I did 
 not turn. A man s step is unlike an animal s, 
 and I had no doubt in my heart that a man was 
 coming. But let him come to me. My im 
 mediate and pressing concern was to repair my 
 canoe that I might get to camp, and I would 
 squander neither movement nor eyesight till 
 that was done. A few moments before it had 
 seemed a vital matter to find what creatures 
 they were that whispered and rustled past me 
 in the grayness. Now my anxiety was trans 
 ferred. 
 
 The echoing fog played witchcraft with the 
 step as it had done with the other noises. The 
 sound came, came, came, a steady, moderate 
 note; no haste, no dallying, no indecision. 
 Quiet, purposeful, controlled, it sounded; that 
 pace, pace, that came through the twig-car 
 peted timber. The Greek Fates were pictured 
 as moving with just that even relentlessness of 
 stride. Yet in life, so far as I have seen it, trage 
 dies commonly pounce upon us, like a wolfish 
 cat upon her prey, and we find ourselves stunned 
 and mangled before we gather dignity to meet 
 the blow. I thought of this, in an incoherent, 
 muddy way, as the step came nearer. And I 
 worked with hurrying hands at the canoe. 
 
 Then came a voice. No whispering, no rust-
 
 256 MONTLIVET 
 
 ling, nothing vague and formless and haunting, 
 but a low, commanding call: 
 
 "Bonjour, mon ami." 
 
 I did not start. If I turned slowly it was be 
 cause I knew what was waiting me, and was ad 
 justing several possibilities to meet it. It was a 
 man s voice that called, yet its every inflection 
 was familiar, familiar as the beating of my heart. 
 For madame, my wife, had called to me more or 
 less often in the twin of that voice with its slurring 
 deliberateness and its insolent disregard of the 
 pitfall accents of a foreign tongue. And now I 
 turned to meet her cousin, the man whom 
 she had promised to marry; the man who had 
 deserted her to the knives of savages; the man 
 whom she despised and yet feared, and who 
 now called to me in a voice that was hers and 
 yet was not; that haunted and repelled, all 
 in one. I did not think out any of this by rule 
 and line. I only knew that I dreaded meet 
 ing this man who was stepping, stepping into 
 my life through the fog, and that I turned to 
 meet him with my heart like ice but my brain on 
 fire. 
 
 I had ado to keep my tongue from exclaiming 
 when I turned. I do not know why I expected 
 the man to be small, except that I myself am 
 overly large, and that I was looking for him to 
 be my antithesis in every way. But the figure
 
 IN THE MIST 257 
 
 that loomed toward me out of the luminous mist 
 dwarfed my own stature. Never had my eyes 
 seen so powerful a man. Long and swinging as 
 an elk, he had the immense, humped shoulders 
 of a buffalo and the length of arm of a baboon. 
 His head would have sat well on some rough 
 bronze coin of an early day. Semitic in type 
 he looked, with his eagle-beaked nose and prom 
 inent cheek bones, but the blue of his eyes was 
 English. They were intelligent eyes. 
 
 He looked at me a moment, and I stood si 
 lent for his initiative. I remembered that I was 
 dressed roughly, was torn and rumpled by my 
 contest with the forest, and that I must appear 
 an out-at-elbows coureur de bois. He would 
 not know me for the man he was seeking. I 
 waited for him to ask my name, and selected 
 one to give him that was my own and yet was 
 not M. de Montlivet. Since names cannot be 
 sold nor squandered, my father had bequeathed 
 me a plethora of them. 
 
 But I credited the Englishman with too little 
 acuteness. He stepped forward. "This is Mon 
 sieur de Montlivet?" 
 
 I could do no less than bow, but I kept my 
 hand by my side. "And you, monsieur?" 
 
 He smiled as at one indulging a childish skir 
 mish of wits; but controlled as his face was, I 
 could see the relief that overspread it at my
 
 258 MONTLIVET 
 
 admission. "My name is Starling. I have a 
 packet for you, monsieur," and he handed me 
 Cadillac s letter. 
 
 I hated the farce of the whole affair, and when 
 I ran my eye over Cadillac s message, which I 
 could forecast word for word, I felt like a play 
 acting fool. But I read it and put it in my 
 pocket. 
 
 "You have had a long trip, Lord Starling," I 
 said, with some show of courtesy. "It is new to 
 see a man of your nation in this land ! " 
 
 He waved me and my words into limbo. 
 "Where is the Englishman, the prisoner?" 
 
 A folded blanket lay beside the canoe, and I 
 shook it out and spread it on the dew-drenched 
 grass. "Will you sit, Lord Starling? Forgive 
 me if I smoke. It is unusual grace to meet a 
 man of my own station, and I would enjoy it in 
 my own way. Will you do the same ? I see you 
 have your pipe." 
 
 He swung his great arm like a war club. 
 "Where is the prisoner?" 
 
 I sat on the red blanket and filled my pipe. 
 "I know of no prisoner." 
 
 I thought he would have broken into oaths, but 
 instead he shrugged his shoulders. He walked 
 to the other side of the blanket, and I saw that 
 he limped painfully. Then he sat down opposite 
 me, his great turtle neck standing up between
 
 IN THE MIST 259 
 
 his humping shoulders. With all his size and ugli 
 ness he was curiously well finished, a personality. 
 He was a man to sway men and women. I felt it 
 as I felt his likeness to his cousin, a likeness that 
 I could not put my finger on but that I knew 
 was there. Small wonder that she dreaded him. 
 He was a replica in heavy lines of the sterner 
 traits in her own nature. He had something of 
 her curiously winning quality, too. Did she 
 feel that ? She had promised to marry him. I lit 
 my pipe and smoked, and waited for him to 
 declare himself. 
 
 He did it with his glance hard on me. "You 
 are playing for time. Is that worthy your very 
 evident intelligence, monsieur, since you can pro 
 tract the game only the matter of a few hours at 
 most ? I have Cadillac s warrant for the pris 
 oner." 
 
 I smoked. I felt no haste for speech. What I 
 had to say would make a brutal, tearing wound, 
 and I hugged my sense of power and gloated 
 over it like an Iroquois. A woman was between 
 us, and I knew no mercy. 
 
 My silence appeared to amuse him. He 
 studied me and looked unhurried and reflective. 
 He stretched out a long, yellow arm in simulation 
 of contented weariness. "I wonder why you 
 wish to keep the prisoner with you longer," he 
 marveled.
 
 260 MONTLIVET 
 
 And then I laughed. I looked him full in the 
 face and laughed again. "But I have no pris 
 oner. Unless, indeed, matrimony be a sort of 
 bondage. I travel with my wife, with Madame 
 de Montlivet, ne e Starling, monsieur." 
 
 I knew that I had cut him in a vital part, 
 but he held himself well. An oath burst from 
 him, but it did not move his great, immobile 
 face into betraying lines. Yet when he tried to 
 speak his voice trailed off in an unmeaning rat 
 tle. He tried twice, and his hands were sweat- 
 beaded. Then he heaved his great bulk upward 
 and stood over me, his baboon arms reaching 
 for my throat. 
 
 "The marriage was honest? Speak." 
 
 I could respect that feeling. "Father Nouvel 
 married us," I replied. "We found him at the 
 Pottawatamie Islands. I marvel that you did 
 not hear news of us from there, monsieur." 
 
 He sank back on the blanket. "I did not 
 go there. I sprained my ankle." He talked still 
 with that curious rattling in his voice. "I lost 
 time and the damned Indians left me. When 
 did you discover" 
 
 "I married madame as soon as I discovered. 
 Monsieur, you are of her family. I can assure 
 you that I have shown your cousin all the respect 
 and consideration in my power." 
 
 He looked at me as if I were some smirking
 
 IN THE MIST 261 
 
 carpet knight who prated of conventions when a 
 man was dying. 
 
 " Where is she?" 
 
 " In my camp, monsieur." 
 
 "Take me to her." 
 
 "Monsieur, I must refuse." 
 
 He opened his mouth with a look that cursed 
 me, but before the words came he thought twice 
 and changed his front. He spoke calmly. "I am 
 her guardian and her cousin. I was her intended 
 husband. You are a gentleman. I ask you to 
 bring me to my cousin, monsieur." 
 
 His tone of calm possession fired me. I re 
 membered what he was, and I enumerated his 
 titles in order. 
 
 Yes. You are the guardian who would have 
 married her for her estates; you are the cousin 
 who played the poltroon and outraged her pride 
 of family; you are the lover who abandoned her, 
 abandoned her to torture and the tomahawk. 
 Is it strange that it is her wish never to see you ? 
 You will spare your pride some hurts if you avoid 
 her in the future, monsieur." 
 
 The great face turned yellow to the eyes. 
 "She told you this?" 
 
 "I am no mind reader, monsieur." 
 
 And then he turned away. I took one glimpse 
 of his face and knew it was not decent to look 
 a second time. He had done a hideous thing,
 
 262 MONTLIVET 
 
 but he was having a hideous punishment. Na 
 ture had formed him for a proud man, and he had 
 lived arrogantly, secure of homage. I wondered 
 now that he could live at all. 
 
 And so I went to work at the canoe, and 
 waited till he should turn to me. When he did 
 it was with a child s plea for pity, and the abject- 
 ness of his tone was horrible, coming from a man 
 of his girth and power. 
 
 You might have done the same thing your 
 self, monsieur." 
 
 I bowed. I could not but toss him that bone 
 of comfort, for it was the truth. Sometimes a 
 spring snaps suddenly in a man, and he becomes 
 a brute. How could I boast that I would be im 
 mune? 
 
 "But I would have shot myself the moment 
 after," I said. 
 
 He had regained his level. "Then you would 
 have been a double coward. I shall do better." 
 
 You think to reinstate yourself?" 
 
 "I know that I shall reinstate myself. Mon 
 sieur, I throw myself upon your courtesy. I ask 
 to be taken to my cousin." 
 
 "No, monsieur. I follow my wife s wishes." 
 
 "I loved her, monsieur." 
 
 My pity of the moment before was gone like 
 vapor. I looked up from my canoe, and took 
 the man s measure. "I think not. You loved
 
 IN THE MIST 263 
 
 something, I grant. Her wit, perhaps, her 
 money, the pleasure she gave your epicure s 
 taste. But you did not love her, the woman. 
 My God, if you loved her how could you endure 
 to scatter her likeness broadcast among the 
 savages as you did ? To make that profile, that 
 mouth, that chin, the jest and property of a 
 greasy Indian! No, you shall not see my wife, 
 monsieur." 
 
 He changed no line at my outburst. ; Then 
 I shall follow by force. I shall sit here till you 
 move, monsieur." 
 
 I shrugged. " A rash promise. Are your pro 
 visions close at hand ?" 
 
 He looked at me steadfastly. Then you ab 
 solutely refuse to take me to her?" 
 
 "I refuse." 
 
 "Yet I shall reach her." 
 
 I took moss from my pocket and calked a seam 
 with some precision. I did not speak. 
 
 You think that I cannot reach her ?" 
 
 I smiled. There was a womanish vein in the 
 man that he should press me in this fashion for 
 a useless answer. I began to see his weakness 
 as well as his obvious strength. I waited till he 
 asked yet again. 
 
 :< You think that I shall not be able to reach 
 your wife, monsieur?" 
 
 And then I shrugged and examined him over
 
 264 MONTLIVET 
 
 my pipe-bowl. " Yes, you will reach her, I think. 
 You have a certain persistence that often wins 
 small issues, seldom large ones. But I shall not 
 help you." 
 
 "I shall stay here till you go." 
 
 "Then we shall be companions for some time. 
 May I offer you tobacco, monsieur?" 
 
 He smiled, though wryly and against his will. 
 It was plain that we were taking a certain sa 
 turnine enjoyment out of the situation. We could 
 hate each other well, and we were doing it, but 
 we were both starved for men s talk, the talk 
 of equals. 
 
 "It seems a pity to detain you," he mused. 
 "You are obviously on business. When I came 
 up behind you I thought that I had never seen 
 a man work in such a frenzy of haste. There 
 was sweat on your forehead." 
 
 I waved my pipe at him. I had the upper 
 hand, and I felt cruelly jovial. "It was haste 
 to meet you," I assured him. "I missed you 
 in the fog, and feared you would reach camp 
 before me." 
 
 You feared me, monsieur?" 
 
 I felt an unreasoning impulse to be candid 
 with him. The strange, choking terror had swept 
 back at that instant, and again it had me by the 
 throat. Yet here sat the cause of my terror be 
 fore me, and he was in my power.
 
 IN THE MIST 265 
 
 "I feared your Indians." I spoke gravely. 
 "Handle those Hurons carefully, monsieur. It 
 is a tricky breed." 
 
 "But I have no" He stopped, and looked 
 at me strangely. " What made you think that I 
 was near ? " 
 
 "For one thing I heard your axe yesterday." 
 
 "But yesterday I was five leagues from here." 
 
 I whistled through my teeth. I hate a use 
 less lie. "I heard your axe," I reiterated. 
 "This morning you and your men passed me 
 in the fog." 
 
 He stared at me, then at the forest. "Mon 
 sieur, I have no men!" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "I came alone." 
 
 " Monsieur, you are lying." 
 
 "It is you who are mad. Take your hands 
 away!" 
 
 "I will let you go when you tell me the truth. 
 Remember, your men passed me this morning." 
 
 "I tell you, I came alone." 
 
 "Where are your Indians that Cadillac sent 
 with you?" 
 
 "I sprained my ankle and they left me." 
 
 "Where did they go?" 
 
 "How should I know? I tell you they left 
 me." 
 
 " Was Pemaou, the Huron, one of them ?"
 
 266 MONTLIVET 
 
 "He was guide. Monsieur, what do you 
 mean?" 
 
 I could not answer. My throat was dry as if 
 I breathed a furnace blast. I looked at the canoe 
 under my hands. It was not seaworthy. "Will 
 your canoe carry two?" I cried. 
 
 He nodded. His great rough face was sickly 
 with suspense. "Monsieur, what does this 
 mean ?" 
 
 I swore at him and at the hour he had made 
 me lose. "Men passed me in a fog. They 
 have been hiding here for a day at least. Show 
 me your canoe. We must get to camp. Yes, 
 come with me. Come, show me your canoe."
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 WHAT I FOUND 
 
 ONCE in the canoe I bade Lord Starling crouch 
 low, and I paddled fiercely. I breathed hard 
 not from exertion, but like a swimmer fight 
 ing for his breath. I was submerged in waves 
 of terror, yet I had no name for what I feared. 
 I learned then that there is but one real terror 
 in the world, fear of the unseen. The man 
 who feels terror of an open foe must be a strange 
 craven. 
 
 Lord Starling respected my mood and was si 
 lent. He sat warily, shifting his weight to suit the 
 plunging canoe. 
 
 " The fog chokes me," he said at length. 
 " How large a camp have you ? Whom did you 
 leave on guard?" 
 
 I told him. 
 
 "That should be sufficient." 
 
 "Not for a concerted attack." 
 
 "But who would make a concerted attack ? " 
 
 I lengthened my stroke till the canoe quivered. 
 "I am not sure. I have been shadowed. I 
 thought it was by your order. I cannot talk 
 and paddle, monsieur."
 
 268 MONTLIVET 
 
 But I could paddle and think. And always I 
 saw the meadow as we had found it that first day 
 with drifts of white butterflies over the flowers, 
 and the woods warm and beckoning. How would 
 the meadow look now ? 
 
 But when we came to it I thought it looked 
 unchanged, save that the fog made all things 
 sinister. We crashed through the guarding 
 reeds, and I let the canoe drive hard upon the 
 sand. No one was in sight, and a wolf was 
 whining at the edge of the timber. I leaped to 
 the shore. 
 
 I think that I called as I stumbled forward. 
 I saw the ashes of a dead fire, and a cask that 
 had held rum lying with the sides and end 
 knocked in. Then I saw a dead body. 
 
 I did not hasten then. My feet crawled. 
 The body lay sprawled and limp with its out 
 stretched fingers clutching. One hand pointed 
 toward the woman s cabin. 
 
 I turned the corpse over. It was Simon. His 
 scarlet head was still dripping, but his face was 
 untouched. I saw that he had died despairing, 
 and I laid him back with a prayer on my lips 
 but with the lust to kill in my heart. 
 
 I went through the cabins quickly but me 
 thodically. I think that I made no sound of 
 grief or excitement, but I knew indefinitely that 
 Lord Starling was following me, and that, at hor-
 
 WHAT I FOUND 269 
 
 ribly measured intervals, he gave short, panting 
 groans. But I did not speak to him, nor he to 
 me. 
 
 I spoke for the first time at the woman s cabin. 
 I looked within and saw that it was untouched ; 
 then I put out my arm and barred Lord Starling s 
 way. 
 
 "I have never stepped in here, and you shall 
 not," I told him with my jaws set, and I think 
 that I struck him across the face, though of that 
 I have never been quite sure. 
 
 In my own lodge I found havoc. Bales had 
 been broken open, and my papers were thrown 
 and trampled. Many of the papers were blood- 
 smeared. 
 
 I examined every cabin and every bale, then 
 went to the ashes of the camp fire and stood still. 
 Lord Starling followed, and I heard his smothered 
 groan. I took out my knife. 
 
 " I shall kill you if you make that noise again," 
 I said. 
 
 I think that I spoke quietly, but he stepped 
 back. I saw that he was afraid, afraid of los 
 ing his miserable, mistaken life, and I laughed. 
 I laughed for a long time. Hearing myself 
 laugh, I knew that it sounded as if I were near 
 insanity, but I was not. My head had never 
 been clearer. 
 
 Perhaps Lord Starling conquered his fear.
 
 270 MONTLIVET 
 
 He came nearer and lifted his magnificent, com 
 pelling bulk above me. 
 
 "Listen!" he began. "We have been foes; 
 we shall be again; but now we are knit closer 
 than eye and brain in a common cause. I will 
 deal with you with absolute truth as with my 
 own right hand. Tell me. Tell me, in God s 
 mercy ! What do you know ? Who did this ? 
 What can we do?" 
 
 His voice was judicial, but I saw his great 
 frame swaying like a shambling ox. I mar 
 veled that he could show emotion. My own 
 body felt dead. 
 
 "The woman has been taken away," my 
 stiff, strange voice explained. " So far they have 
 not harmed her." 
 
 "How do you know?" 
 
 "There are no marks of struggle. Simon 
 resisted, and they killed him. The other men 
 surrendered. The Indians wanted prisoners, not 
 scalps." 
 
 "Was it Pemaou and his Hurons?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 You are sure ? " 
 
 " He left a broken spear in my lodge. There 
 was bad blood between us once, and I broke the 
 spear in two and tossed the pieces at him, telling 
 him to keep them, to keep them, for we should 
 meet again. I humbled him. Now it is his
 
 WHAT I FOUND 271 
 
 jest. He is a capable Indian. He seems to have 
 outwitted even you, monsieur." 
 
 Because I spoke as one dead he thought I 
 needed leading. He took me by the arm and 
 would have guided me gently to the canoe. 
 
 "Come, Monsieur de Montlivet, you must 
 rouse yourself. We must start in pursuit." 
 
 I shook him off. "Sit here where it is dry.. 
 You need your strength. We have hours to get 
 through here before we leave, and little to do to 
 help us through the time. We must wait here 
 for Pierre." 
 
 "What do you mean ? We must go at once." 
 
 "No, we wait for Pierre. It may be dusk 
 before he returns. I sent him over the portage 
 yesterday with orders to explore some leagues 
 to the south. We must wait for him. He can 
 tell us whether Pemaou went east by way of the 
 portage." 
 
 "But we lose time!" 
 
 "We gain it. If Pemaou did not go by way 
 of the portage, he went west. He would not 
 dare go north, for fear of the Pottawatamies, 
 and he would have no object in going south. 
 He went east or west. We can learn from 
 Pierre." 
 
 The man s shoulders heaved. "Your men 
 were cowards," he muttered. 
 
 I looked at him. So a coward could despise
 
 272 MONTLIVET 
 
 a coward! "My men were wise/ I corrected. 
 "With Simon killed there were only two men 
 left, one, rather, for Leclerc is a nonentity. 
 Labarthe, left alone, was wise to surrender. He 
 is skillful with Indians. Monsieur, tell me of 
 your dealings with Pemaou. Tell me your trip 
 here. I need details." 
 
 He measured me. You dictate, monsieur?" 
 
 I pointed to Simon s body. "That is my 
 claim." 
 
 He gulped at that, and turned his back on 
 the red horror to fix his steady, critical gaze on 
 my face. "After the massacre," he began, with 
 an effort, "I followed many false trails. I went 
 to Quebec, to Montreal. All this has nothing to 
 do with what you wish to know. But at Mon 
 treal I first heard rumors of an English prisoner 
 who was being carried westward. That sent me 
 to Michillimackinac." 
 
 "You heard this rumor through the priests?" 
 
 Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " I thought so. It is fortunate for the success 
 of your somewhat complicated plans that you are 
 a Catholic and a Jacobite." 
 
 "Is there a slur in that remark, monsieur ?" 
 
 "Not unless the facts themselves are insulting. 
 Our priests would see no hidden purpose in your 
 story. They would be predisposed in favor of 
 a Catholic and follower of James. They would
 
 WHAT I FOUND 273 
 
 give you letters where a commandant would not. 
 It was good policy to go to them." 
 
 "But, monsieur, I am a Catholic!" 
 
 "Which, I repeat, is fortunate." 
 
 "Monsieur, this is wanton insult. Are you 
 trying to pick a quarrel with me here, here with 
 this tragedy around us ? It is a dog s trick. I 
 will not fight you." 
 
 Again I took out my knife. "I will not fight 
 you here, here with this tragedy around us, 
 but I may kill you. I shall do it if you do not 
 tell me this story fairly. I care nothing for your 
 life, and I need this story. I will have it if I 
 have to choke it out of your throat," 
 
 " I am trying to tell you the story, monsieur." 
 
 "No. You are telling me a pleasant fairy 
 tale of a love-lorn knight searching the wilder 
 ness for his lost mistress. A moving tale, mon 
 sieur, but not the true one. I want the real 
 story. The story of the English spy who wishes 
 to ransom his cousin, but who also treats secretly 
 with the Hurons, who treats with Pemaou, 
 monsieur. Tell me his story." 
 
 His face did not alter. ;< You believe me a 
 spy?" 
 
 "I have reason, monsieur." 
 
 Still he regarded me. You might be right, 
 but you are not. Monsieur, I am a broken man. 
 I want nothing but my cousin. If there is in-
 
 274 MONTLIVET 
 
 trigue around me I do not know it. I am telling 
 you the truth." 
 
 I fought hard against the man s fascination, 
 his splendid, ruined pomp. You must have a 
 code," I burst out. "There must be something 
 you hold dear. Will you swear to me by the 
 name of the woman that you have not had secret 
 dealings with the Hurons?" 
 
 "I swear." 
 
 "But the profile that the Huron carried!" 
 
 "Those pictures I scattered broadcast. You 
 will find them among the Algonquins, and the 
 Ottawas of the upper river. My cousin has a 
 distinctive profile. I offered rewards for news 
 of any one man or woman who looked like 
 the face that I had drawn." 
 
 I put out my hand. "I hope that I have 
 wronged you, monsieur." 
 
 He bowed and touched my fingers. His own 
 were icy, yet he shivered at the chill of mine. 
 "Pemaou would not dare harm the woman. 
 Monsieur de Montlivet, you know Indians. 
 Surely Pemaou would not dare?" 
 
 I gripped my knife. " No man knows Indians ! 
 Where did you see Pemaou first ?" 
 
 "At Michillimackinac. When I reached 
 there and learned that the prisoner had gone 
 with you I sent interpreters through the camps 
 with offers of reward for news of your where-
 
 WHAT I FOUND 275 
 
 abouts. Pemaou came. He said he could lo 
 cate you and I took him as guide." 
 
 "He selected his own escort?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And you traveled slowly?" 
 
 "Very slowly." 
 
 I fingered my pipe and bit hard at its stem. 
 " Pemaou has played carefully. He had the wo 
 man captured and brought to camp. The time 
 was not ripe for him to use her, so he let me 
 carry her away. But he has had me shadowed. 
 You played well into his hands, for you furnished 
 blankets and provisions. He had no intention of 
 letting you find us. We are equal dupes. I 
 see that I wronged you, monsieur." 
 
 He looked down, his breath laboring. I could 
 look at him now without recoil, for a common 
 humiliation bound us. We were white and we 
 had been tricked by a savage. We sat in heavy 
 silence. 
 
 At last Starling spoke dully. " Why did 
 Pemaou wait so long?" 
 
 I gripped my knife the closer. !< That we shall 
 learn when we learn what he has done with the 
 woman." 
 
 He looked up with his jaw shaking. "Mon 
 sieur, we must make haste." 
 
 But I shook my head. "Monsieur, no. We 
 must await Pierre."
 
 276 MONTLIVET 
 
 The fog was withdrawing. It was noon, and 
 I rose and made ready a grave for Simon. I 
 chose a spot under a pine where I had seen the 
 woman sit, and I dug deep as my crude imple 
 ments would permit. Then I piled stones on the 
 mound . The Englishman helped me, and together 
 we said a prayer. We did not comment till 
 our work was over. Then Starling looked down 
 at the mound. 
 
 " I wonder why he was killed ? The others 
 surrendered." 
 
 I shrugged a trifle bitterly. "He loved the 
 woman. It was not her fault. I doubt that 
 she knew it, and she could not help it. But it 
 cost him his life, for it made him attempt to carry 
 a forlorn hope. And she never even knew. It is 
 suicide to love a woman hopelessly, monsieur." 
 
 It was hideous when we went back to our seats 
 by the ashes. The sun had come out hot and 
 nauseating, and the flies buzzed horribly. We 
 tried to crowd down food, but we could not 
 swallow. We sat and chewed on our despairing 
 thoughts, and hate that was a compound of phy 
 sical faintness and sick uncertainty rose between 
 us. 
 
 The Englishman took a miniature from his 
 pocket and handed it to me. 
 
 "She gave it to me herself," he said. "With 
 laughter and with kisses, monsieur."
 
 WHAT I FOUND 277 
 
 I tried to wave the picture away, but I had not 
 strength to resist looking. It was no profile that 
 I saw. The brown eyes looked full in mine; 
 merry eyes, challenging, fun-crowded, innocent. 
 There were no sombre shadows there. There 
 was spirit in plenty, but no sorrow. White 
 shoulders rose from clouds of pink gauze, and 
 the hair was powdered and pearl -wreathed and 
 piled high in a coronet. It was not the face of 
 the woman that I knew. I said so, and returned 
 the portrait to the Englishman. 
 
 He could not resist baiting me. ; You do 
 not like it, monsieur?" 
 
 I shook my head. "It is nothing to me. It 
 is the face of a laughing, trusting, untouched 
 girl. I have never seen her." 
 
 You say that you married her." 
 
 " Monsieur, this is a girl. I married a woman, 
 a woman matured by tragedy. The eyes that 
 are laughing in this portrait are wiser now. 
 They have seen the depths of a man s treachery. 
 But they have not lost their spirit, no, nor their 
 tenderness, monsieur. You will find little that 
 you recognize in the woman who is now my 
 wife." 
 
 He kept his composure. : You use the word 
 wife very glibly," he said, with a yawn. "Do 
 you use it when the lady is within hearing, as you 
 do now?"
 
 278 MONTLIVET 
 
 "She is my wife." 
 
 He laughed, for he saw he had drawn blood. 
 Your wife in name, perhaps, I grant you 
 that, but not in fact. Do you think me blind 
 that I should not see the two cabins. And you 
 said that you had never crossed the threshold of 
 the woman s room. I see that I shall find my 
 cousin the maiden that I left her, monsieur." 
 
 I kept my lips closed. He had indeed drawn 
 blood. I could not answer. He leaned for 
 ward and tapped a significant forefinger on my 
 knee. 
 
 "Remember, she has kissed me, monsieur. 
 She has kissed me often of her own will." 
 
 And then my spirit did return. "That does 
 not concern me." 
 
 He lifted his great lip. You are indulgent." 
 
 The flies buzzed odiously. The Englishman 
 was gloating over me, his great head craned for 
 ward like a buzzard s. My brain took fire. 
 
 "I am not indulgent," I said slowly, with my 
 throat dry. "I am wise. She has kissed you, 
 yes. I have no doubt that she has kissed you 
 many times, casually, lightly, indifferently. She 
 brushed the plumage of her falcon in the same 
 way. You are welcome to the memory of those 
 kisses, my lord. You may have more like them 
 in the future, and I shall not say you nay. They 
 mean nothing."
 
 WHAT I FOUND 279 
 
 He scowled at me. "What do you know of 
 her kisses ? " he said under his breath. 
 
 I looked him in the eye. "I know this. 
 There is but one kiss that means anything from 
 a woman, and she gives it, if she is the right 
 kind of a woman, to but one man in her life. 
 For the rest, I value them no more than the 
 brush of her finger-tips. Tell me, have you 
 felt her lips pressed to yours till her breath and 
 her soul were one with you ? Tell me that. An 
 swer, I say." 
 
 I had let the cord of reason and decency slip. 
 I rose, and I think that the hate in my face must 
 have been wolfish, for the man drew back. He 
 tried to look contemptuous, but I saw fear in his 
 eyes. Fear and something more, a sudden 
 pain and longing. The emotion that heretofore 
 he had kept well in hand trapped him for the 
 moment. I was answered. The woman might 
 never be mine, but she had never been his, either. 
 I turned away. I was triumphant, but I loathed 
 myself. I was sick with the situation, and the 
 man who had brought me to it. 
 
 ; You may keep your kisses, monsieur," I 
 said savagely. You may keep them. But if 
 you mention them to me again I shall throttle 
 you where you stand." 
 
 The Englishman had felt the revulsion, and 
 he showed no resentment of my heat. He
 
 280 MONTLIVET 
 
 heaved himself up in the hot, horrible sunshine 
 and rubbed his hands as if washing them free. 
 
 " We are curs," he said quietly. 
 
 I could not say nay. "We must eat," I 
 cautioned; "we must eat, and keep ourselves 
 sane. If we can get through this day without 
 murder or worse, we shall have work to do from 
 now on that will serve to keep our heads clear. 
 Pierre will be coming soon now." 
 
 Starling was regarding me keenly. You 
 lose your temper, and therefore you should be 
 easy to read," he said reflectively. "But you 
 are not. You evidently married my cousin for 
 convenience. I can understand the situation. 
 But you stand by your bargain well. You have 
 the honor of your name somewhat sensitively 
 at heart. But if you had not married her If 
 there were no compulsion, no outside reason 
 tell me, would you marry her now?" 
 
 But that I left unanswered.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE PIVOT 
 
 PIERRE came at five o clock. He was keen for 
 the approaching supper hour and came jovially. 
 
 I was sick with haste, and deep sunk in my 
 own grief, so I was cruel and a fool; I plumped 
 the facts at him without a softening word. And 
 so I frustrated my own ends. The great, slow 
 creature cowered and grew dumb under my story. 
 Then he went, great-eyed and hanging-lipped, from 
 cabin to cabin. I had locked up his springs 
 of word and thought. 
 
 But one thing my sword and my words prodded 
 out of him. He had come by the portage path 
 from the east, and had seen no marks of passage 
 that were less than a week old. Our star led 
 west. 
 
 I baled what provision and ammunition we 
 needed, loaded the canoes, and cached the furs 
 and the balance of the stores at the edge of the 
 forest. At six o clock we were afloat. I led 
 the way, and Pierre followed with the English 
 man. This gave me space to think in silence. 
 
 The sun sank red and clear, and we paddled 
 from a colored dusk to a clear starlight. I knew
 
 282 MONTLIVET 
 
 this dimly, as the lost in the inferno know the 
 barred joys above them. Unless we found Pem- 
 aou within the next few hours I should never 
 be one with the loveliness of nature again. 
 
 I held my way due west to the Malhominis. 
 I could secure their cooperation, if nothing more. 
 Pierre followed at a canoe length, and we trav 
 eled unbrokenly. It was an hour short of mid 
 night when we saw the west shore. I could take 
 no bearings in the dim light, so we nosed along, 
 uncertain whether to go north or south to find 
 the mouth of the Wild Rice River where the 
 Malhominis had their home. We held a short 
 colloquy and started northward. Suddenly 
 Pierre shot his canoe beside my own. 
 
 "A camp! " he breathed in a giant whisper. 
 
 I suspended my paddle. On the shore to 
 the north of us were lights. It could not be the 
 Malhominis, for they lived inland; it was not 
 Pemaou, for the camp was many times larger 
 than his would be. It was probably a hunting 
 party. All the western tribes were friendly; 
 more, they were my allies. I saw no necessity for 
 caution. I raised a long halloo, and our canoes 
 raced toward the lights. 
 
 We landed in a medley. Indians sprang from 
 the squatting groups around the fire and ran 
 to meet us. They were black shapes that I 
 could not recognize. I leaped from my canoe
 
 THE PIVOT 
 
 and held up my hand in greeting. But an arm 
 reached out and tore my musket from me. I 
 looked up. A leering Iroquois stood over me. 
 
 I dropped my arms and stood passive. A 
 look over my shoulder told me that Pierre 
 and Starling had been seized and were fighting 
 well. 
 
 " Caution ! " I called. " Do not resist. Watch 
 me." 
 
 " Where are we ? What does it mean ? " Star 
 ling called back. His voice was shaking. 
 
 I held out my arms to be bound. "The Iro 
 quois!" I shouted to Pierre in dialect. "I did 
 not know there were any within a thousand 
 miles. Keep steady. Follow me. We may find 
 Pemaou here." 
 
 The Indians bound us systematically, but 
 without undue elation, so that I judged that 
 they had many captives. They were Senecas 
 and had the look of picked men. I understood 
 their speech, but beyond ribald jests at our ex 
 pense they said nothing. It was all swift, unreal. 
 Owls hooted in the woods and dogs snarled at us. 
 The groups that remained by the fire peered in 
 our direction, but were too lethargic to come near. 
 I tried for a word with Starling. I feared for his 
 spirit. 
 
 " They are Senecas," I managed to say to him; 
 "the most diplomatic nation of the Iroquois
 
 284 MONTLIVET 
 
 league. They will not butcher us without consid 
 eration. Keep cool." 
 
 He nodded with some patronage. He looked 
 impressive, unshaken; yet the moment before 
 he had been terror-stricken. I saw that I did not 
 understand him, after all. 
 
 Having bound us, our captors raised a shout 
 and shouldered us toward the camp. A young 
 brave capered before us, beating his breast and 
 singing. The braves by the fire took up the cry. 
 
 And so we were pushed into the circle of flam 
 ing light. The Indians crowded to us, and pressed 
 their oily, grinning faces so near that I felt their 
 breath. I stumbled over refuse, and dirt-crusted 
 dogs blocked my way . The mangled carcass of 
 a deer lay on the ground, and the stench of fresh 
 blood mingled with the reek of the camp. Yet 
 I saw only one thing clearly. In the midst of it 
 stood the woman and Singing Arrow. 
 
 My relief caught at my throat, and the cry 
 I gave was hoarse and strangled. But the wo 
 man heard it. My first look had shown me not 
 only that she was unharmed, but that she was 
 undaunted, that she stood white -faced in all the 
 grime, and held herself above it, a thing of 
 spirit that soil could not reach. Yet when she 
 saw me, the cry that came from her in answer 
 changed her from an effigy to something so 
 warm and living that I forgot where I stood,
 
 THE PIVOT 285 
 
 and stopped my breath to hold her gaze to mine, 
 and drink the moment to the full. We stood 
 with captivity between us and torture at our el 
 bow, but the woman looked only at me, and her 
 lips grew red and tremulous, and her breath came 
 fast. You are safe. You are safe." I heard 
 the words even among the babel, and I pulled 
 like a wild animal at my bonds to free myself 
 and reach her side. 
 
 But I was held fast, and while I struggled came 
 a mighty cry from behind me, "Mary! Mary! 
 Mary!" Starling s Goliath frame pushed by 
 me, and his captors were hurled like pygmies to 
 each side. 
 
 The woman was unprepared. She cried at 
 sight of him with a deep throaty terror that 
 sent the blood to my brain. Starling would have 
 pressed himself to her, but she put out her un 
 bound arms and fended him away. And then he 
 stood with his great height bowed and pleaded 
 to her. I had shrugged at the English for their 
 hard reserve, but when I heard this man I learned 
 again that it is always the dammed torrent that 
 is to be feared. Even the Indians heard in si 
 lence. 
 
 The silence lasted. Never before nor since 
 have I known savages to take the background 
 and let two whites play out a tragedy unchecked. 
 But now they formed a ring and watched.
 
 286 MONTLIVET 
 
 They forgot their interest in me and let me go. 
 I could stand unheeded. An old man threw 
 tinder on the fire, and we saw each other s faces as 
 in the searching, red light of a storm. I watched 
 the cords in Starling s neck tighten and relax as 
 he talked on and on. 
 
 The drama was in pantomime to me, as to 
 the Indians, for the cousins spoke in English. 
 But I could understand the woman s face. She 
 spoke in monosyllables, but I could have pitied 
 any other man for the gulf she put between them 
 by her look. She was more than scornful ; torn 
 and disheveled as she was, she was cruelly ra 
 diant, her eyes black -lined and her lips hard. 
 She was unassailable. And when she met her 
 kinsman s eye I gloried in her till I could have 
 laid my cheek on the ground at her feet. 
 
 It was plain they were kinsmen. I had 
 marked the strange blood resemblance between 
 them when I first saw the man, and it was 
 doubly to be noted now. It was blood against 
 blood as they faced each other. And it came 
 to me that it was more than a personal duel. 
 No wrong is so unforgivable as one from our 
 own family whose secret weaknesses we know 
 and share, and I felt that the repulsion in the 
 woman s eyes was part for herself and part 
 for her pride of race. Yet I was uncertain of 
 the issue. The tie of blood is strong, and after
 
 THE PIVOT 287 
 
 a few minutes I thought that Starling was gain 
 ing ground. His great personality enwrapped us 
 all, and his strange, compelling voice went on and 
 on and on, pleading, pleading in a tongue that 
 I could not understand. His eyes never left the 
 woman s, and in time hers fell. I tried to clench 
 my bound hands, for my pride in her was hurt; 
 yet I could understand his power. 
 
 It was just then that the savages wearied of 
 the spectacle and hustled Starling away. They 
 saw that he was English, and they unbound his 
 arms, and began to take counsel concerning him. 
 In a flash I saw my path clear. They were 
 friendly to the English. The woman was Eng 
 lish. I must not let her identify herself with 
 me. And so when her glance crept back to me, 
 I was prepared. I would not stop to read what 
 her look might say. I shook my head at her 
 and dropped my eyes. I made the same signal 
 to Singing Arrow. The Indian would under 
 stand my motive ; I could not be sure about the 
 woman. 
 
 And then I turned and mingled with the 
 crowd, with my heart beating strangely but my 
 brain cool. The interest was centring in Star 
 ling, and the older men had their calumets in 
 hand and were preparing for the council. I saw 
 that for a few hours at least I should have life 
 and semi-liberty. There was no possibility
 
 288 MONTLIVET 
 
 of my escape, so, bound as I was, I was free to 
 wander within limits. I would keep as near the 
 women as possible and try and herd my faction 
 together. 
 
 I had been too absorbed to use my eyes, but 
 now I saw that a captive was lying near my feet. 
 He was closely tied on two pieces of rough wood 
 shaped like a St. Andrew s cross, and was a 
 hideous sight with his tongue protruding and 
 his eyes beginning to glaze. Dogs were scram 
 bling and tearing at him, and I edged nearer and 
 tried to drive them away. I examined him as 
 closely as I dared, and judged by the dressing 
 of his long hair that he was a Miami. In that 
 case the war party must have come from the 
 south by way of the Ohio and the Illinois country, 
 and they were probably working their way north 
 to reach Michillimackinac on its unguarded side. 
 I saw it was a war party, for there were no wo 
 men with them, and the Iroquois carry their fam 
 ilies on all hunting trips. 
 
 I looked at the dying man and wished for my 
 knife. So they tortured Indian captives while 
 they let me, a Frenchman, go lightly bound. 
 Well, my turn was yet to come. My white skin 
 probably gave me importance enough so that I 
 would be referred to the council. I would not 
 look ahead. I would plan for the moment, and 
 open eyes and ears.
 
 289 
 
 There were many captives, I saw now, and my 
 anxiety for Leclerc and Labarthe grew keen. I 
 made my slow way around the bound figures. 
 Some were pegged to the ground by their out 
 stretched hands and feet, and some were stretched 
 on crosses. But all were Indians. I saw more 
 Miamis, a few Kickapoos, and some whom I 
 did not know; I learned later that they were 
 Mascoutens. And then I saw Labarthe. He 
 was tied to a tree, Leclerc beside him. Leclerc, 
 who was ever a fool, would have motioned to me, 
 but Labarthe struck down his arm and gave a 
 blank stare. So I was able to get near them. 
 They looked blood-stained and jaded, but prac 
 tically unhurt, and I saw a half-eaten chunk of 
 meat in Leclerc s hand. They had been fed and 
 reasonably well treated. But that meant nothing 
 as guide to what might come. 
 
 I had not made my way alone. Starling was 
 the chief attraction, but I, too, was the centre of 
 a curious, chaffering crowd. The braves were 
 uriwontedly good-humored, childishly pleased 
 with the evening s excitement, and I amused 
 them still further by shrugging at them and 
 making great faces of contempt. When one 
 offered me a meal cake I kicked at him and 
 trampled the food into the ground, and as I swag 
 gered away I heard him tell the others that I was 
 a bear for courage. I could have smiled at that,
 
 290 MONTLIVET 
 
 for I was acting more like a blustering terrier 
 than any nobler animal, but I would not let them 
 see that I understood their tongue. 
 
 And so I pushed my way about. But wher 
 ever I went, or whatever else my eyes were doing, 
 I kept watch upon the woman. She stood quiet 
 with Singing Arrow and waited for what might 
 come. Her fate was hanging with Starling s at 
 the council ring, and I knew that I must keep 
 away from her. That was not easy. Each time 
 that I let my glance rest upon the foulness of 
 the camp I felt that I must go to her and blind 
 her eyes. But I never made more than one step. 
 I had only to look at her to understand that her 
 spirit had learned in these months to hold itself 
 above the body. What was passing did not 
 touch her; she lived in the fortress of her splen 
 didly garrisoned pride. Singing Arrow stood 
 equally aloof, intrenched in her stoicism, but I 
 think the root motives of the two were different, 
 though the outside index was the same. Indeed, 
 we all had different wellsprings for our com 
 posure. Pierre s stolidity was largely training. 
 Starling s quiet might mean instinctive imitation, 
 but I feared it was something more sinister. 
 While mine But I had no composure. I 
 swaggered and shrugged and played harlequin 
 and boaster. 
 
 We were soon to learn that Starling s quiet
 
 THE PIVOT 291 
 
 was not impervious. I saw him start. His hand 
 flew to where his knife had been, and his teeth 
 showed like a jackal s. A figure that had lain, 
 blanket -shrouded in the shadow, had risen and 
 come forward. It was Pemaou. He had pleased 
 his humor by being an unseen auditor and 
 letting us play out our various forms of resist 
 ance and despair for his delight. Now he would 
 make a dramatic entry. He was dressed for the 
 part in a loin cloth, a high laced hat of scarlet, 
 and the boots of a captain of dragoons. He 
 stopped before Starling and grinned silently. 
 Then he held his hat, French fashion, and made 
 a derisive bow. The Englishman forgot his dig 
 nity and cursed. I wished that I had been near 
 enough to hold up a warning hand. 
 
 I knew my turn was next, so was prepared. 
 Pemaou sought me, and stood before me, but I 
 would not see him; I looked through him as 
 through glass. He spoke to me in French, but 
 I was deaf. I heard the Senecas grunt with 
 amusement. 
 
 Pemaou heard it too, and his war plume quiv 
 ered. He gave an order in Huron, and one of 
 his men came behind me and unbound my hands. 
 I could have jeered at the childishness of his open 
 purpose. He hoped that, with my hands free, 
 I would spring at him, impotent and vengeful 
 as a caged rattlesnake, and that then he could
 
 292 MONTLIVET 
 
 turn me over to the sport and torture of the mob. 
 I stretched my freed arms, laughed to myself, and 
 turned away. My laugh was genuine. It was 
 wine to me that he should have shown weakness 
 in this fashion, when in some ways he had proved 
 himself a better general than I. It was a small 
 victory, but it cheered me. 
 
 I do not know how long the council lasted, but 
 it seemed hours. The old men rose at last, and 
 going to Starling, patted him, grunted over him, 
 and examined him. I could not hear what they 
 said, but it was evidently pacific; they led him off 
 in the direction of the largest lodge. 
 
 And then came the woman s turn. I knew 
 that my face was strained, though I strove to keep 
 it sneering. I saw the oldest man give instruc 
 tions, then he went to the two women and pointed 
 the way before him. I pushed along as best I 
 could. He took them to a small hut of bark and 
 motioned them within, while he himself dropped 
 the mat in front of the opening. They were safe 
 for that night at least. 
 
 The savages were wearied now and turned to 
 Pierre and me with yawn s . They m ad e short work 
 of us. I was bound to the arm of a stout warrior, 
 and he dragged me under a tree and dropped on 
 the ground . He was snoring before I had finished 
 building a barricade of cloak between us to keep 
 as much as possible of his touch and smell away.
 
 THE PIVOT 293 
 
 The camp quieted rapidly, and I soon had 
 only silence between me and the stars. My 
 mind was active but curiously placid. Inch by 
 inch I went over the ground of the last twenty- 
 four hours. I stated the case to myself as a 
 foreigner translates a lesson. It is sometimes a 
 help to put a situation in the concrete, to phrase 
 it as to a stranger. In that way you stand aloof 
 and see new light. So I put the matter in cate 
 gory, sharing it with the stars, and with the back 
 of the snoring Indian. 
 
 We were in Pemaou s hands. He had known 
 that the Iroquois were coming; had probably 
 known it months before, and had instigated this 
 campaign. He wished an alliance with the Eng 
 lish, and, though he could work to that end 
 through the Iroquois, he would find an English 
 prisoner a material aid. I could see how useful 
 I had been to him in keeping the Englishwoman 
 away from Michillimackinac, where he would 
 have had ado to hold his title of possession to her, 
 and I could not but respect the skill with 
 which he had timed his blow, and brought her to 
 the Iroquois camp at the right moment. Yes, 
 I had served him well, from the time when I had 
 assisted him to hear Longuant s speech in the 
 Ottawa camp to the present hour. The accident 
 that had strengthened him still further by throw 
 ing Lord Starling into his hands he also owed to
 
 294 MONTLIVET 
 
 me. But I looked up at the stars and did not 
 lose courage. The game was not over; the score 
 was yet to be paid. 
 
 I had many plans to arrange. Day was com 
 ing, and I watched the horizon breaking and 
 felt that the morning would bring new opportu 
 nity. 
 
 And then, just as I needed all my wit and pre 
 sence, I fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE PRICE OF SLEEP 
 
 I DO not know that, after all, I can call that sleep 
 which fell upon me. Sleep is merely a blessed 
 veiling of the faculties ; this was collapse, deadness. 
 The Indian beside me must have been equally 
 worn, for he lay like a log. We were huddled 
 close to a tree, so were unnoticed, or at least 
 undisturbed. The sun was hours high when I 
 opened my eyes. 
 
 I sprang to my feet, dragging the Indian to his 
 knees. He grunted, rubbed his eyes, and feel 
 ing sluggish and uncomfortable from the warmth 
 of the morning, found me an incubus. He 
 grunted again, untied the thongs that bound us, 
 and went, stretching and yawning, to find his 
 breakfast. 
 
 I stood for a moment marshaling my wits. The 
 bright day and the noise confused me, for I had 
 been deep sunk in unconsciousness, and grasped 
 the real world unsteadily. The camp was even 
 larger than the night had shown, and it took some 
 looking to find the woman s lodge. It was empty ; 
 the mat was pulled down from before the door. 
 
 I should have expected nothing else, for the
 
 296 MONTLIVET 
 
 morning was far advanced, but I felt baffled, 
 belated, like one whose long unconsciousness 
 had carried him hopelessly out of touch with his 
 surroundings. Most of the Indians were gathered 
 at the shore, and I made my way toward them. 
 I went but slowly, for I had to feign indifference. 
 I knew that every step was watched. Perhaps 
 the woman herself was watching. I burned with 
 shame to think she should have seen me sleep 
 so soddenly. I expected every moment to see 
 her in the crowd. 
 
 But when I reached the beach the crowd was 
 straying as if the excitement were over. Far 
 out on the water to the northeast was a flotllia 
 of canoes fast disappearing. Whom did they 
 carry ? Had they left from the camp ? I cursed 
 myself for my lost hours. The threads of the 
 situation had slipped from my hand, and all my 
 feeling of competence and hope of the night be 
 fore had gone with them. I could see no sign of 
 the woman nor of Starling. Pierre s red head 
 was a beacon, but I dared not go to him. He 
 was bending over a caldron of boiling meat, 
 and I saw that my man was himself again, and 
 that the trencher called him more winningly than 
 any voice of mine. I shrugged, and went to the 
 beach to make what toilet I could. The cold 
 water recreated me. I was more a man when 1 
 strolled back in the crowd.
 
 THE PRICE OF SLEEP 297 
 
 And then I saw Labarthe. He was unbound 
 and mingling with the Indians. Leclerc was 
 close beside him, shuffling and docile; he, too, 
 was free, as was Pierre. Four of us, and our 
 hands at liberty. This looked better. I hummed 
 a tune, clapped a brave on the shoulder, and 
 motioned him to bring me meat and meal. 
 But where was the woman ? 
 
 I saw Labarthe working toward me with his 
 eyes the other way, so I knew he had news. He 
 was nimbler witted than Pierre, though less 
 valuable on a long stretch. I dreaded Leclerc, 
 for he could not be trusted even for good sense, 
 and I heartily wished him elsewhere. But Pierre 
 came to the rescue; he called Leclerc boldly, 
 and drew him to the meat caldron. I was sat 
 isfied. Three of us were working in unison, 
 and we had worked together in this way before, 
 and won. But where were Pemaou, and Starling, 
 and the woman? 
 
 Labarthe made his way near, and stood with 
 his back toward me. I remembered a roundelay 
 that we had sung in camp. I whistled it, pick 
 ing, in the meantime, at the bone the Indian had 
 brought. I whistled the tune once, twice, sev 
 eral times. Then I fitted words to it. 
 
 " Where is the woman ? Where is the English 
 man ? Tell me." I sang the words boldly, but 
 in bastard French with clipped accents. I feared
 
 298 MONTLIVET 
 
 that among all these Senecas there might be one 
 or more who had some smattering of the French 
 tongue. 
 
 Labarthe did not answer at once nor look 
 around, so I went on singing. Nonsense words 
 now, with no coherence or meaning, and all in 
 French that a cowherd would have been ashamed 
 to own. 
 
 I worked at last to a crescendo of sound that 
 gave Labarthe his cue. He turned and laughed, 
 as if noticing me for the first time. He cocked 
 his head like a game bird, planted his legs apart, 
 and joined the song. He had the biggest voice 
 from Montreal to Chambly, and he sung with full 
 lung power and at breathless speed. It was a 
 torrent of sound ; my ears were strained to fol 
 low it. 
 
 "Five large canoes left this morning," he 
 warbled. "They carried madame, the English 
 man, Pemaou, and his Hurons, and a detach 
 ment of the Senecas, some seventy-five in all. 
 They went to Michillimackinac." 
 
 The news hit me like a bullet, and I must 
 have whitened, but I kept on singing. I nodded 
 at Labarthe, and sang, I think, of spring and 
 running brooks. Then I flung a jeer at him 
 and ate my breakfast. I ate it systematically 
 and stolidly, though it would not have tempted 
 any but a starving man. I was a fool and a dull-
 
 THE PRICE OF SLEEP 299 
 
 ard. I had slept away my opportunities, and I 
 could not see that my strength was important to 
 any one. But I determined to preserve it. 
 
 If I kept up jest and laughter for the next 
 hours and I have some memory that I did 
 it was automatic. For I more nearly touched 
 despair than ever before. I did not need the 
 sentences that I picked up further among the 
 Indians to tell me what had happened. The 
 Senecas, under Pemaou s guidance, had gone 
 to Michillimackinac ; had put their heads into 
 the bear s mouth, and yet were as safe as in their 
 own village, for the bear s teeth were drawn, 
 and the Senecas were armored. They traveled 
 with Pemaou, and they had two English prison 
 ers. That insured them protection from the 
 Hurons, who desired the English alliance and 
 had leanings toward the Iroquois. As to the 
 Ottawas, there was Singing Arrow as hostage. 
 It was significant that the Senecas had allowed 
 Singing Arrow to go unbound. They desired 
 an alliance with the Ottawas. I remembered 
 Longuant s speech, and his indicated policy of 
 casting his strength with the winning side, and I 
 thought it probable they would succeed. 
 
 And if they succeeded ? Well, Cadillac had 
 his two hundred regulars. Yet he could not 
 hope to win, and he would do what he could to 
 hold off the necessity of trying. He would not
 
 300 MONTLIVET 
 
 dare seize the Senecas. No, the league of the 
 Long House had won. Their braves could sit in 
 our garrison at their leisure and exchange peace 
 belts with our Indians under our eyes. I set 
 my teeth and wondered what part Starling had 
 played in it all. He had grown curiously at ease 
 when he had found himself in an Iroquois camp. 
 I had no choice but to believe that Pemaou had 
 tricked and deceived him, as he had said, but 
 that did not mean that he had not been in league 
 with Pemaou in the beginning. Pemaou was cap 
 able of tricking a confederate. No Englishman 
 understands an Indian, and if he had patron 
 ized Pemaou the Huron would have retaliated in 
 just this way. I grew sick with the maze of my 
 thought. But one thing I grasped. With part 
 of the Senecas in the French camp, we French 
 men would be spared for a time. We would be 
 convenient for exchange, or to exact terms of 
 compromise. They might torture us, but they 
 would keep us alive till the issue of this expedi 
 tion was known. 
 
 All about me were preparations for a perma 
 nent camp. This puzzled me for a time, but I 
 soon worked out the reason. They were afraid 
 to march with their full force on Michillimacki- 
 nac, for they feared the friendship of the western 
 tribes for the French, and thought that if a large 
 war party marched openly toward the garrison
 
 THE PRICE OF SLEEP 301 
 
 these tribes would rally to Cadillac s defense. 
 So this camp was kept as watch-dog for the 
 western region. I prayed that Cadillac keep his 
 judgment cool. 
 
 One thing brought smiles that I had to turn 
 into vacant and misleading laughter. Through 
 all the talk ran my name, that they did not 
 know was mine. They had heard that I was 
 stirring among the western tribes, and that I was 
 making them dangerous. They spoke of my 
 knowledge of Indian tongues, and added apocry 
 phal tales of my feats of wit and daring. My 
 image loomed large, and it was no wonder that 
 they did not connect this mythical Colossus with 
 the swaggering royster who played buffoon for 
 their mirth. I wondered that Pemaou had not 
 told them, but I reflected that there is a mutual 
 distrust among Indians that takes the place of 
 reticence, and that that had saved me. I had 
 escaped for the moment, but the ice was thin. 
 I should be given short shrift once my name was 
 known. 
 
 The day passed, warm and lovely in the woods 
 and on the water, hideous and sweltering in the 
 stench of the camp. I saw captives die of heat 
 and flies, but I could do nothing. My men took 
 cue from me, and we all laughed and chaffered. 
 I even took a turn at spear throwing, but was too 
 discreet to win. I gained some good-will, per-
 
 302 MONTLIVET 
 
 haps, but nothing more, and when the stars came 
 out that night I ground my teeth to think of 
 how little I had accomplished, and of the slender 
 opportunity ahead. 
 
 But the next morning I saw a straw to grasp. 
 Up to that time we had been left to the guardian 
 ship of all the camp, but the second day I saw 
 that the huge brave to whom I was tied at night 
 followed me incessantly. I watched, and saw 
 that my men had similar attendants. This was 
 a gain, as I said to Labarthe. I did not try to 
 have connected speech with the men, but by say 
 ing a word at a time as we passed we could patch 
 together a few sentences. 
 
 From that on I gave the day to winning my 
 special jailer. He was an intelligent Indian and 
 inclined to be good-humored. I amused him, and 
 when I took a net and motioned that we go to 
 the swamp to fish he grunted and agreed. 
 
 The swamp lay on the north of the camp, and 
 was, I was sure, part of the great rice field on 
 which the Malhominis had their village to the 
 west. The swamp was flooded so that it would 
 bear a canoe, and it teemed with fish. I took 
 the net, it was ingeniously woven of nettles 
 pounded to a fibre and then spun into cords, - 
 and showed the Indian how to swing it across 
 an eddy and draw it under with a swift, circular 
 sweep that would entangle any fish. I had sue-
 
 THE PRICE OF SLEEP 303 
 
 cess, and the Indian warmed to the sport and 
 tried it himself. He could not do it; he could 
 not get the twist of the hand that was the whole 
 secret, and I had to show him again. He im 
 proved and grew ambitious. A few braves wan 
 dered over to look at us, but my jailer was jeal 
 ous of his new accomplishment, and we took a 
 canoe and paddled out of sight. We spent most 
 of the day in the swamp. 
 
 That evening I went boldly to Pierre and said 
 a few swift words. I told him to keep as near 
 the swamp as possible, and to tell the other men 
 to do the same. In about two days, if my plans 
 carried, we should be able to accomplish some 
 thing. In the meantime they must appear con 
 tented, and try for the confidence of their guards. 
 
 Now my plan was simple. I had in my shirt 
 the bottle of laudanum that all traders carry, 
 and it was my only weapon. Pierre had shown 
 me a small flask of rum which the Indians had 
 not discovered, and which he had had the unex 
 pected self-control to leave untouched. I hoped 
 that when my Indian had learned the casting of 
 his net his vanity could be played on to invite 
 the other Frenchmen and their guards to see his 
 prowess, and that we should then have opportu 
 nity to treat the Indians to the laudanum-dosed 
 rum. It was a crazy scheme, but worth a trial. 
 If we could get possession of the canoe, there
 
 304 MONTLIVET 
 
 was some hope that we could make our way to 
 the Malhominis village. 
 
 No teacher was ever more zealous than I for 
 my net-thrower. Early the next morning I 
 winked toward the swamp, and jerked my thumb 
 over my shoulder. The Indian came willingly. 
 Why should he not ? I was unarmed, and he 
 had knife and hatchet and was my peer in 
 strength. He thought me a strange fool, but 
 useful. 
 
 But that morning the lesson went badly. The 
 Indian was clumsy, and being ashamed of him 
 self, grew surly and indifferent. The sun was 
 hot, the water dazzling, and mosquitoes rose in 
 clouds. The Indian wanted to go back to camp, 
 and I cudgeled my wits for expedients to keep 
 him there. 
 
 And then I bethought me of an accomplish 
 ment which I had shown Indians before. Quick 
 ness of hand is my greatest resource, and I had 
 been known to noose a fish. I tore my handker 
 chief in ribands, made a weighted sling, and had 
 the Indian swing the canoe over a ripple where a 
 great bass lay. I waited my time, then plunged 
 my hand down with the weighted noose. I drew 
 it up, with the fish caught through the gills. 
 
 The Indian was pleased. He grunted and ex 
 claimed in his own speech, though he thought I 
 could not understand.
 
 THE PRICE OF SLEEP 305 
 
 "They say the Frenchman, Montlivet, can do 
 that." Then he looked at me and light dawned. 
 "You are Montlivet!" 
 
 I wasted no time. I do not know how I did it, 
 but I sprang the length of the canoe and was on 
 him before he could reach his knife. The canoe 
 rocked, but righted itself. I knotted my fingers 
 in the Indian s throat, and my body pinioned his 
 arms. 
 
 The surprise of my attack gave me a second s 
 vantage, and in it I snatched at the vial in my 
 shirt, and drew the stopper with my teeth. It 
 was difficult, for the great, naked frame was writh 
 ing under me, and the canoe pitched like a cork 
 in an eddy. I felt the Indian s hot breath, and 
 his teeth snapping to reach me. His arm was 
 working free and his knife unsheathed. I threw 
 my whole weight on his chest, released my clutch 
 on his neck, and taking both hands, forced 
 his mouth open and dashed the contents of my 
 laudanum vial down his throat. Then I sprang 
 into the water, dragging Indian and canoe after 
 me. 
 
 I felt the slash of a knife in my right shoulder 
 as I touched the water, and the Indian s wiry 
 grasp on my coat. I rolled and grappled with 
 him, and the canoe floated away. Hugging each 
 other like twining water snakes, we sank down 
 through the reeds to the slimy ooze of the bottom.
 
 306 MONTLIVET 
 
 Down there we wrestled for a second, blinded 
 and choking. Then self-love conquered hate, 
 and we kicked ourselves free and spluttered to 
 the surface. My shoulder was stinging, and I 
 could not tell how long I could depend on it. 
 I made a desperate stroke or two, dived, and put 
 myself in the cover of the reeds. 
 
 The Indian splashed after me, but the water 
 flowed through the reeds in a dozen channels, and 
 he took the wrong one. He would find his mis 
 take in a moment. I swam a few paces under 
 water, then lay quiet, holding myself up by the 
 reeds, and keeping my mouth to the air. Piece 
 by piece I freed myself of my clothing and let 
 it drop. The cut in my shoulder was raw and 
 made me faint. It was not dangerous, but deep 
 enough to give me trouble, and would make my 
 swimming slow, if, indeed, I could swim at all. 
 I felt the water swash against me and knew the 
 Indian was swimming back. There was only a 
 thin wall of reeds between us, and in a moment 
 he would come to where the channels joined and 
 see my floating garments. I could not stop to 
 secure them, though I had hoped to tie them in a 
 bundle on my back. I dropped under the water 
 and swam away. 
 
 I have often marveled how I distanced that 
 Indian so easily. It may have been his discom 
 fort from the opiate, though I have never known
 
 THE PRICE OF SLEEP 307 
 
 how much of what I splashed over him went into 
 his mouth, nor what effect it had. But after a 
 little I heard no sound of pursuit. I thought 
 that perhaps the Indian had gone back to spread 
 the alarm, and I took no risks. I swam as fast 
 as I had strength, resting occasionally by holding 
 on to the reeds, and trying to keep my course due 
 northwest. 
 
 And hour by hour passed, and still I kept on 
 swimming. It was torture after the first. I could 
 rest as often as I needed, but the cold water pal 
 sied me, and I feared cramp. My shoulder was 
 feverish, and the pain of it sapped my strength. 
 Occasionally I found a log tangled in the reeds, 
 and I pulled myself up on it into the sun. If I had 
 not been able to do that I could not have gone on. 
 
 With chill and fever and pain I had light 
 headed intervals. These came as the afternoon 
 waned, arid while they lasted I thought that the 
 woman was in the Seneca camp, and that I must 
 get back to her. Then I would turn and swim 
 with the current, losing in a few minutes as much 
 as I had gained in double the time. Fortunately 
 these seizures were brief, but they would leave 
 me sick and shaken and grasping the reeds for 
 support. Another illusion came at this time: I 
 would hear the woman calling, calling my name. 
 Sometimes she cried that I had forsaken her. 
 That left me weaker than the fever of my wound.
 
 308 MONTLIVET 
 
 It was impossible to see where I was going, 
 for the reeds were high above my head, but so 
 long as my reason lasted I steered by the sun. 
 I presume that I doubled many times, and lost 
 much space, but that I do not know, for toward 
 the end I traveled like an automaton. I could 
 not fix my mind on where I was going or why, 
 but I kept repeating to myself that I must push 
 against the current, and so, though I lost the idea 
 at times, and found myself drifting, I think that 
 I went some distance after my brain had ceased 
 to direct. 
 
 And then I found peace. My mind, freed 
 of the burden of thinking of its surroundings, 
 turned to the woman. She called to me, talked 
 to me, sometimes she walked the reeds at my 
 side. She was all smiles and lightness, and her 
 tongue had never a barb. I forgot to struggle. 
 The narrow channel where I had been fight 
 ing my way opened now into a broader passage, 
 and the current flowed under me like an uplift 
 ing hand. The woman s voice called me from 
 down-stream; I turned on my back, and floated, 
 dreamy and expectant, toward the river s mouth.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 I ENCOUNTER MIXED MOTIVES 
 
 I WAS called to semi-consciousness by the tin 
 kling clamor of small bells, and by feeling my 
 feet caught in something clinging yet yielding. 
 Then my body swung into it. It was a web. I 
 pulled at it, and tried to brush it away. And 
 all the while the bells kept ringing, ringing. A 
 shower of arrows fell around me, and one grazed 
 my foot. 
 
 A man must be far gone indeed when an arrow 
 point will not sting him to life. I was no longer 
 a fever-riven log of driftwood. I knew where I 
 was and what was happening. I had reached 
 the Malhominis village. Working through the 
 rice swamp, I had come into the main river too 
 far to the west, but following the woman s voice 
 I had floated back. I was caught in one of the 
 nets that the Malhominis strung with small bells, 
 and stretched across the stream to keep both fish 
 and enemies in bounds. I set my teeth hard. 
 
 "It is Montlivet. It is Month vet," I called. 
 
 Had I thought the Malhominis stolid and 
 none too intelligent! They heard me call, they 
 pushed a canoe to my rescue, and they carried
 
 310 MONTLIVET 
 
 me to a warm lodge. I remember that I ban 
 died words with them as they carried me. They 
 made sport to see me naked, for on my former 
 visit I had rebuked them severely on that score. 
 But they were tender of my shoulder. 
 
 The time for the next few hours indeed 
 for the night is confused. My shoulder was 
 dressed and bound with herbs, and I was laid 
 on a bed of rushes. Outchipouac, the Malho- 
 minis war chief, knew from former acquaintance 
 with me that I had prejudices and would not lie 
 where it was not clean, and so he humored me 
 and gave orders that the rushes be freshly cut. 
 By this I knew that he had not only respect for 
 me, but something that was like affection, since 
 savages are indolent and intolerant, and will not 
 bestir themselves for Europeans unless they are 
 unwontedly interested. I treasured this kind 
 ness. One meets little that savors of personal 
 regard in the wilderness, and I was ill. 
 
 Now, savages know little of the laws of health 
 and abuse what they know, but in the matter 
 of herbs they can be trusted. The herb drink 
 which they gave me had virtue, for I woke with 
 my head clear. A gourd of water stood beside 
 my pallet, and I drained it and called lustily 
 for another. A man pushed aside the skins and 
 came in. It was Pierre. Pierre, alive, clothed, 
 and with every hair of his flamingo head bristling
 
 MIXED MOTIVES 311 
 
 and unharmed! He answered my cry with a 
 huge smile, and then because he had a gypsy 
 mother in the background of his nature, he put 
 his great hands before his face, and I saw tears 
 pushing between the ringers. 
 
 That made me fear ill news. I half rose, and 
 would have shaken his tidings out of him like 
 corn out of a bag. But the pain of my shoulder 
 sent me back again with my teeth jammed hard 
 together. 
 
 " What has happened ? Out with it ! " I cried. 
 
 But Pierre was inarticulate. He came to my 
 pallet and mumbled something between tears 
 about my shoulder. 
 
 "and the master with no clothes but a 
 dirty Indian s!" he finished. 
 
 So I was the cause of this demonstration. I 
 patted his hand. 
 
 "But your escape, Pierre? Where are the 
 other men ?" 
 
 "Master, I do not know." 
 
 "But where did you come from? How did 
 you get here? Talk, man!" 
 
 The master does not give me time. I came 
 by land. It is a fine land. They raise great 
 squashes. Yes, and grain and vegetables! I 
 have never seen their like in France. If I had a 
 farm here I could have more than I could eat the 
 whole year round."
 
 312 MONTLIVET 
 
 I took time to curse. I had never heard my 
 giant prate of agriculture ; the camp and the tap 
 room had been his haunts. This appeared to 
 be a method of working toward ill news. I lay 
 back on my rushes and tried to fix his eye. 
 
 "Pierre, answer. Where is Labarthe?" 
 
 "I told the master "- 
 
 "Answer!" 
 
 "I don t know." 
 
 "Did he escape with you?" 
 
 Pierre rubbed his sleeve across his face. 
 "The master will not listen. I do not know 
 about Labarthe. I saw him at camp yesterday 
 morning. The master saw him at the same 
 time. Then the master went to the swamp, and 
 I went, too, with my Indian. But I kept behind. 
 By and by I saw the canoe upside down, and 
 the master s cloak floating on the water; by that 
 I knew that the master was drowned or had got 
 away. I thought he had gone to the Malho- 
 minis, and I wanted to go, too. So I killed my 
 Indian, and hid him in the grass. I came by 
 land." 
 
 I rose on my elbow, careless of my shoulder. 
 " How could you kill the Indian ? You had no 
 weapon." 
 
 Pierre stretched out his arms, knotted like an 
 oak s branches, and illustrated. " I hugged him. 
 Once I broke the ribs of a bear."
 
 MIXED MOTIVES 313 
 
 I lay and wagged my head like an old man 
 who hears of warlpcks and witch charms, and 
 knows the tales to be true. The stupefying 
 simplicity of it! If you want a thing, take it. 
 Pierre wanted to follow me, so he killed his 
 guard and came. That was all there was of 
 it. I looked at him long, my head still wagging. 
 He had done this sort of thing before. I had 
 never understood it. It was this that I meant 
 when I had called Pierre, dull of wit as he seemed, 
 the most useful of my men. 
 
 I lay all day on my pallet, and Outchipouac 
 served me with his own hands. 
 
 "It is thus that we treat those whom we de 
 light to honor," he said, and he held the gourd 
 to my lips and wiped my face with a square of 
 linen that some trader had left in camp. He 
 would give me no solid food, but dosed me with 
 brewed herbs and great draughts of steaming 
 broth. The juggler looked into the lodge and 
 would have tried his charms on me, but Outchi 
 pouac sent him away. 
 
 A storm rose toward night, and I heard the 
 knocking of the rain on the skin roof above me, 
 and thought of the woman traveling northward 
 in the Iroquois canoes. Starling was with her. 
 I lay with tight-clenched hands. 
 
 The storm swelled high. I asked that the mat 
 be dropped from before the door that I might see
 
 314 MONTLIVET 
 
 the lightning, and while I watched it Outchi- 
 pouac slipped in. He felt me over, and patted 
 my moist skin approvingly. Then he. sat by my 
 side and began to talk. 
 
 His talk at first was a chant, a saga, a recita 
 tion of the glories of his ancestors. The Malho- 
 minis had been a proud race, now they were 
 dwindled to this village of eighty braves. He 
 crooned long tales of famine, of tribal bicker 
 ings, of ambuscade and defeat; his voice rustled 
 monotonously like wind in dried grass. 
 
 Then his tone rose. He spoke of the present, 
 its possibilities. The Iroquois league was a 
 scourge, a pestilence. Could it be abolished, 
 the western nations would return to health. 
 Security would reign, and tribal laws be re 
 spected.. The French would be friends, part 
 ners, never masters, and a golden age would 
 descend upon the west. It was the gospel that 
 I had cried in the wilderness, but phrased in 
 finer imagery than mine. I felt the wooing of 
 his argument, even as I had wooed others, and 
 I listened silently and watched the lightning s 
 play. 
 
 But I dreaded the moment when his argument 
 should leave theory and face me in the concrete. 
 The change came suddenly, as in music a tender 
 melody will merge abruptly into a summons to 
 arms. He called me to witness. The Iroquois
 
 MIXED MOTIVES 315 
 
 were at the gates. They outnumbered the Mal- 
 hominis, but the Sacs, the Chippewas, and the 
 Winnebagoes were all within a day s journey, 
 and would come at my call. The time for the 
 alliance of which I had told them was at hand. 
 My body was crippled but my brain was whole. 
 To-morrow he, the chief, at my bidding, and 
 with my watchword, would send runners through 
 the tribes. Within the week a giant force could 
 be gathered and an attack made. The Iroquois 
 camp would be exterminated, and then I, at the 
 head of the force, could march where I willed. 
 Never had the western tribes followed a white 
 man, but I had called their hearts from their 
 bodies, and they would go. 
 
 But one thing I was to remember. He, Out- 
 chipouac, the chief, was my brother in arms. 
 He had rescued me, clothed me, furnished me 
 the means of war. My victories were his victo 
 ries. These were his conditions. All Iroquois 
 slaves that might be captured were to belong to 
 the Malhominis to be incorporated in their tribe. 
 The other tribes could divide the plunder, but 
 the Malhominis needed new blood for adoption. 
 I must agree to that. 
 
 He stopped. I was too sick of mind to speak, 
 and my distemper was not of my wound. I had 
 builded for this moment for two years, and now 
 that it had come I was going to turn my back on
 
 316 MONTLIVET 
 
 it. More, I was going to refuse aid to a man who 
 had succored me, had shown me genuine kind 
 ness. Self-pity is contemptible, but I felt it now. 
 
 "I cannot lead you," I said dully. "Gather 
 your troops if you like, and make the attack 
 without me. I cannot be here. To-morrow I 
 must start for Michillimackinac. You will give 
 me a canoe and a man ?" 
 
 The lightning filled the tent and lit our faces, 
 and I saw the chief start back under the blow of 
 my words. He was shocked out of all his in 
 herited and acquired phlegm. He did not speak, 
 but he rose and peered into my eyes and I 
 saw bewilderment go and contempt rise to take 
 its place. To feel the righteous disdain of an 
 Indian! That is an unusual experience for a 
 white man. 
 
 And still he did not reply. He sat down and 
 pulled his blanket over him. He was sorting 
 out the evidence against me and giving judg 
 ment. It seemed at least an hour that he sat 
 silent. And when he did speak he brought no 
 manna. 
 
 You have sold yourself to the Iroquois wolf. 
 You are a child. You see only what is in front 
 of your nose and forget what may come later. 
 You are a fox. You hand us over to the wolf, 
 but what do you expect ? Has a wolf gratitude ? 
 No, but he has hunger. Fox meat is poor and
 
 MIXED MOTIVES 317 
 
 stringy, but the wolf has a large stomach. Let 
 the fox beware." 
 
 I pulled myself to my feet, though my shoulder 
 cried to me for mercy. I jerked the chief s blan 
 ket aside. 
 
 " Outchipouac, I have listened. You have used 
 an old trick. When a man wishes to be rid of a 
 dog he cries that it is mad ; then he can kill it, 
 and no one will call him to account. So you. 
 If you wish to break the covenant between us, 
 now is your time. You can call me a fox, you 
 can say that I have sold my honor to the Iroquois 
 wolf. No one will check you, for I am naked 
 and ill, and you are powerful. But you will have 
 lied. This is my answer. I have called you 
 * brother; I have kept the bond unbroken. If 
 there is a fox here it is the man who calls me 
 one." 
 
 I waited, and my mind was heavy. If the 
 chief called me "brother" in turn, I was ready to 
 embrace him as of my kin. For he was full of 
 vigor of mind and honesty, and I respected him. 
 He had been kind to me. Would he trust me 
 against the evidence, the evidence of his ears 
 and of my reluctant tongue ? 
 
 He temporized. "The Frenchman has a 
 tongue like a bobolink, pleasant to hear. 
 Whether it says much, that is a different 
 matter. Can the Frenchman tell me why he
 
 318 MONTLIVET 
 
 wishes to go to Michillimackinac ? Can he tell 
 me why he spends time from the moon of break 
 ing ice to the moon of strawberries building 
 a lodge of promises, and then when he is just 
 ready to use the lodge blows it down with a 
 breath?" 
 
 What could I tell him ? That I was follow 
 ing a woman ? That I had given her my name, 
 and that I must protect her ? It would sound to 
 him like a parrot s laughter. This was no court 
 of love. It was war. A troubadour s lute would 
 tinkle emptily in these woods that had seen mas 
 sacre and knew the shriek of the death cry. 
 Again I set my teeth and rose. 
 
 " Outchipouac, war is secret. I cannot tell 
 you why I go to Michillimackinac. But trust 
 me. I go on business; I shall return at once, 
 within ten days, unless the wind be foul. Will 
 you furnish me a canoe and a man to paddle?" 
 I stooped and pulled rushes from my pallet, 
 plaited them, and bound them in a ring. "Take 
 this ring; keep it. It is firm, like my purpose, 
 and unending, like my endeavor. I shall replace 
 it with a chain of bright silver when I come to 
 you again. I give it to you in pledge of my 
 friendship." 
 
 The chief took the ring and handled it loosely. 
 I thought he was about to throw it away, but he 
 did not. He put it in his blanket.
 
 MIXED MOTIVES 319 
 
 " It is well," he said, and left the lodge. I was 
 held on probation. 
 
 I had a good night and woke with new sinews. 
 I saw that the sun was shining and the sky un 
 troubled. A squaw brought me broth, and I 
 drank it hungrily and tried to see no evil augury 
 in the fact that I was served by a woman. I flat 
 tered her, and asked her to summon Pierre. 
 
 She brought him at once. He thrust himself 
 into the entrance, and I saw dismay written large 
 upon him. 
 
 "There is a canoe waiting to take the master 
 away," he cried. "I am going, too." 
 
 Now I was prepared for this battle. "Pierre, 
 you are to stay here. You are to keep near 
 the Seneca camp to help Labarthe and Leclerc. 
 If they escape, go, all of you, to our camp on 
 Sturgeon Cove and guard the stores till I send 
 you word. You understand?" 
 
 "But the master is sick. I go with him." 
 
 : You stay here." 
 
 "I go with the master." 
 
 "I will not allow it." 
 
 "Then I follow behind." 
 
 :< You have no canoe, no provision." 
 
 "I have legs. I can walk. I can eat tripe de 
 roche." 
 
 The giant was trembling. I could not but re 
 spect this rebellion. He had broken the chains
 
 320 MONTLIVET 
 
 of three centuries in his defiance. The thought 
 of his filling his cavernous stomach with tripe de 
 roche which is a rock lichen, slimy and taste 
 less moved me somewhat. 
 
 "You dare disobey me, Pierre? * 
 
 "But the master is sick." 
 
 I shrugged, but the logic held. "Then tell 
 the chief," I capitulated. "And see that I have 
 something to wear." 
 
 Water was brought by one squaw^ and another 
 fetched more broth and bound my shoulder with 
 fresh dressings. Then leggings, robe, and girdle 
 of wolfskin were left for me. I put them on with 
 difficulty, and went to find Outchipouac. 
 
 I stepped out into a glare of sunshine and stood 
 blinking. The braves were gathered in a group, 
 and a line of squaws barred me from them. I 
 started toward them, but the squaws waved me 
 back ; they pointed me to the shore and the waiting 
 canoe. Pierre rolled forward, uneasy and scowling. 
 
 "The braves will not speak to us; they say our 
 talk means nothing." 
 
 "Who said that?" 
 
 "Outchipouac. He showed me a grass ring 
 hanging on a pole by his lodge. He says that 
 when you come again and hang a silver one in 
 its place it will be time for him to listen." 
 
 I knew the Indians were watching, though 
 covertly, so I could only bow. I went to the
 
 MIXED MOTIVES 321 
 
 canoe and looked to its provisioning. There were 
 two bags of rice, one of jerked meat, some ears of 
 maize, and the dried rind of a squash ; a knife 
 and a hatchet lay with them. Our hosts had 
 been generous. We were to be aided even if 
 we were to be disciplined. I found my place, 
 and Pierre took the paddle and pushed away. 
 
 It is one thing to be at enmity with savages, 
 it is another to be an outcast among them. I 
 knew that their attitude had excuse, and I was 
 sick with myself. Then my Indian dress chafed 
 my pride. I was sure that Pierre was laughing 
 under his wrinkled red skin, and I was childish 
 enough to be ready to rate him if he showed 
 so much as a pucker of an eye. For I had al 
 ways refused to let my men adopt the slightest 
 particular of the savage dress. I had held 
 and I contend rightly that a man must resist 
 the wilderness most when he loves it most, and 
 that he is in danger when he forgets the least 
 point of his dress or manner. After that the 
 downward plunge is swift. I had said this many 
 times, and I knew Pierre must be recalling it. 
 
 And so I was sore with fate. Wounded, skin- 
 clad, I was not heroic in look; it was hard to be 
 heroic in mind. I had jeopardized the chance 
 of an empire for a woman. But that proved no 
 thing. The weakest could do that. It must be 
 shown that I could justify my sacrifice.
 
 322 MONTLIVET 
 
 These were irritations, yet they were but the 
 surface of my suffering. Underneath was the 
 grinding, never-ceasing ache of anxiety. What 
 was happening at Michillimackinac ? Would 
 I reach there in time ? I could do nothing but 
 sit and think. Always, from dawn to dusk, my 
 impatient spirit fretted and pushed at that canoe, 
 but my hands were idle. I tried paddling with 
 my left hand, but it dislocated my bandages, and 
 I did not dare. I was in some pain, but ex 
 posed as I was, broiled by the sun and drenched 
 by showers, I yet mended daily. I ate well 
 and drank deep of the cold lake water and felt 
 my strength come. My cut was healing whole 
 somely without fever, and Pierre washed and ban 
 daged it twice a day. He told me with many a 
 twist of his hanging lip that it was well for me 
 that he was there. 
 
 But on the point of his being there I had new 
 light. It came one day after long silence. The 
 giant rested and wiped his forehead. 
 
 "There are plovers on the waters," he pointed. 
 They make good eating. Singing Arrow can 
 cook them with bear s grease. I am going to 
 marry the Indian when we get to Michillimacki 
 nac. Then when we reach Montreal you will 
 give her a dowry. There is the grain field on the 
 lower river that was planted by Martin. Martin 
 has no wife. What does he need of grain ? The
 
 MIXED MOTIVES 323 
 
 king wishes his subjects to marry. And if the 
 master gave us a house we could live, oh, very 
 well. I thought of it when I went through the 
 Malhominis land and saw all those squashes. 
 The Indian sews her own dresses, and I shall 
 tell her I do not like her in finery. We will send 
 a capon to the master every Christmas." 
 
 I grinned despite myself. I had grown fatu 
 ous, for I had taken it without question that the 
 oaf had followed from his loyalty to me. But I 
 nodded at him and promised recklessly house, 
 pigs, and granary. The same star ruled master 
 and man. 
 
 But the way was long, long, long. Nights 
 came and days came, and still more nights and 
 days. Yet it ended at last. Late one afternoon 
 we saw the shore line that marked Michillimacki- 
 nac. Once in sight it came fast, fast, fast, 
 faster than I could prepare my courage for what 
 might meet me. What should I find ? 
 
 We reached the beach where I had tied Father 
 Carheil. We rounded the point. The garrison, 
 the board roofs of the Jesuit houses, the Indian 
 camps, all were as usual. They were peace 
 ful, untouched. I swallowed, for my throat and 
 tongue w r ere dry.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 I MEET VARIOUS WELCOMES 
 
 IT was Father Carheil who first sighted us. He 
 sounded the cry of our arrival, and came skur- 
 rying like a sandpiper, his scant gown tripping 
 him, his cap askew. 
 
 I leaped from the canoe and hurried to him. 
 The man must hate me, but he could not refuse 
 me news. I stretched out my hand. 
 
 " Is all well here, father ? Is all well ? " 
 
 He disdained my hand, and held his arms 
 wide. "All is well with us. But you We 
 feared the Iroquois wolf had devoured you." 
 
 And I had thought the man capable of petty 
 spite. I dropped on my knees to him. "Father 
 Carheil, I grieve for what I did, yet I could not 
 have done otherwise." 
 
 He drew back a little and rumpled his thin 
 hair with a bloodless hand. His face was frown 
 ing, but his restless, brilliant eyes were full of 
 amusement. 
 
 "So your conscience is not at ease ? My son, 
 you are as strong as a Flemish work horse. I 
 limped to mass for the next fortnight, and my 
 gown was in fiddle-strings, you may send me
 
 VARIOUS WELCOMES 325 
 
 another. As for the rest, we need new altar hang 
 ings. Now, come, come, come. Tell us what 
 has happened." 
 
 And there it ended. One makes enemies in 
 strange ways in this world and friends in stran 
 ger. I should not have said that the way to win 
 a man s heart was to bind him like a Christmas 
 fowl and then leave him with his back on the 
 sand. 
 
 The priest s cry had waked the garrison, and 
 the officers came running. Cadillac, stout as he 
 was, was in the lead. I knew, from the press of 
 his arms about me, that he had thought me dead. 
 
 " Is Madame de Montlivet safe ? Are the Sen- 
 ecashere?" I clamored at him. 
 
 A babel of affirmatives arose. Yes, madame 
 was there. The Senecas were there. So the 
 English prisoner had proved to be a woman. 
 Had I known it at the time ? I was a sly dog. 
 All tongues talked at once, while I fought for a 
 hearing. We turned toward the commandant s. 
 The door of the nearest cabin opened and Star 
 ling came out. He did not look toward us, and 
 he walked the other way. The woman walked 
 beside him. 
 
 A hush clapped down on us as if our very 
 breathing were strangled. A lane opened in 
 front of me. I took one step in it, then stopped. 
 There was the woman. I had followed her
 
 326 MONTLIVET 
 
 through wounds and hardship. Through the 
 long nights I had watched the stars and planned 
 for our meeting. But when I would have gone 
 to her my feet were manacled, for this was not 
 the woman of my dreams. This woman wore 
 trailing silk, and her hair was coifed. And she 
 was walking away from me; no instinct told her 
 that I was near. She was walking away, and 
 Starling walked beside her. I did not remember 
 that I was wounded and a sorry figure ; I did not 
 remember that I was dressed in skins. I remem 
 bered that I had married this woman by force, 
 and that she had once wished of her own accord 
 to marry Starling. And now she walked with 
 him; she wore a gown he must have brought; 
 she had forgiven him. A hot spark ran from my 
 heart to my brain. I turned and started toward 
 the beach. 
 
 I heard a breath from the throats around me 
 and a stretching of cramped limbs. Cadillac s 
 arm dropped round my shoulders, and I felt the 
 pressure of his fingers. 
 
 " Come to my quarters," he said. ; You have 
 mail waiting. And we will find you something to 
 wear. Dubisson is near your size." 
 
 And so I let him lead me away. I pressed 
 him for news of the Indian situation, but he only 
 shrugged and said, "Wait. Matters are quies 
 cent enough on the surface. We will talk later."
 
 VARIOUS WELCOMES 327 
 
 It was strange. I bathed and dressed quite as 
 I had done many times before, when I had come 
 in from months in camp ; quite as if there were no 
 woman, and as if massacre were not knocking at 
 the window. But I carried a black weight that 
 made my tongue leaden, and I excused myself 
 from table on the plea of going through my mail. 
 The news the letters brought was good but 
 unimportant. In the Montreal packet was a 
 sealed line in a woman s hand. 
 
 "I have tracked my miniature," it read. "I 
 mourned its disappearance; I should welcome its 
 return. Can you find excuses for the man who 
 took it from me ? If you can, I beg that you let 
 me hear them. He was once my friend, and I 
 am loath to think of him hardly." The note bore 
 no signature. It was dated at the governor s 
 house at Montreal, and directed to me at Mich- 
 illimackinac. 
 
 I was alone with Dubisson and I turned to him. 
 "Madame Bertheau is at Montreal?" 
 He shrugged. "So I hear." 
 " She has come to see her brother? " 
 Now he grinned. "Ostensibly, monsieur." 
 There was no need to hide my feeling from 
 Dubisson, so I sat with my chin sunk low and 
 thought it over. I was ill pleased. I had been long 
 and openly in Madame Bertheau s train, and this 
 was a land of gossips. I turned to the lieutenant.
 
 328 MONTLIVET 
 
 " Madame de Montlivet, where is she housed ? " 
 
 He looked relieved. "She has a room next 
 door. Starling we have taken in with us. I 
 would rather have a tethered elk. He is so big 
 he fills the whole place." 
 
 Now, square issues please me. "Dubisson, 
 why has no one offered to take me to my wife ?" 
 
 The man laughed rather helplessly. T is 
 from no lack of respect for either of you, mon 
 sieur. But you said nothing, and Starling " 
 
 "Yes, it is from Starling that I wish to hear." 
 
 " Well, Starling has said Monsieur, why 
 repeat the man s gossip?" 
 
 "Go on, Dubisson." 
 
 "After all, it is only what the Englishman has 
 said. Madame, so far as I know, has said no 
 thing. But Starling has told us that yours was 
 a marriage of form only, that the woman con 
 sented under stress, and now " 
 
 "And now regretted it ?" 
 
 "I am only quoting Starling. Monsieur, 
 would you like to see your wife ?" 
 
 I rose. : Yes. Will you send word and see 
 if I may?" 
 
 Dubisson bowed and left me with a speed that 
 gave me a wry smile. The laughter-loving lieu 
 tenant hated embarrassment as he did fast-days, 
 and I had given him a bad hour. 
 
 He was back before I thought it possible.
 
 VARIOUS WELCOMES 329 
 
 "She will see you at once in the comman 
 dant s waiting-room." He looked at me oddly. 
 Your wife is a queenly woman, monsieur." 
 
 The lights shone uncertainly in the comman 
 dant s waiting-room. It was the room where I 
 had met the English captive. From a defiant 
 boy to a court lady! It was a long road, and 
 I was conscious of all the steps that had gone 
 to make it. I went to the woman in silk who 
 waited by the door. She stood erect and silent, 
 but her eyes shone softly through a haze, and 
 when I bent to kiss her hand I found that she 
 was quivering from feet to hair. 
 
 " Monsieur ! " she whispered unsteadily, " mon 
 sieur!" Then I felt her light touch. "God is 
 good. I have prayed for your safety night and 
 day. Ah but your shoulder ! They did not 
 tell me. Are you wounded, monsieur ? " 
 
 I was cold as a clod. She had forgiven Star 
 ling. She had walked with him. I answered 
 the usual thing mechanically. " My shoulder, 
 it is a scratch, madame." I kept my lips on her 
 hand, and with the feeling her touch brought me 
 I could not contain my bitterness. "Madame, 
 you wear rich raiment. Does that mean that 
 you and Lord Starling are again friends?" 
 
 She drew away. " Monsieur, should we not be 
 friends?" 
 
 " Have you forgiven Lord Starling, madame ?"
 
 330 MONTLIVET 
 
 She looked at me with wistful quiet. In her 
 strange gown she seemed saddened, matured. 
 And she answered me gravely. "Monsieur, 
 please understand. My cousin and I Why, 
 we traveled side by side in the Iroquois canoes. 
 He served me, was careful of me ; he he has 
 suffered for me, monsieur. I was hard to him 
 for a long time, a longer time than I like to 
 remember. But I could not but listen to his 
 explanation. And, whatever he did, he is, after 
 all, my cousin, and he regrets deeply all that 
 happened. As to this gown, it is one I wore 
 in Boston. My cousin brought it in his canoe 
 and left it here at the garrison when he went 
 west. Monsieur 
 
 : Yes, madame." 
 
 "Monsieur, I was wrong when I suspected 
 my cousin. I have an unkind nature in many 
 ways. He came here to find me, for that 
 alone. He honors you greatly for all you have 
 done for me. I hope that you will give him 
 opportunity to thank you as he wishes." 
 
 I thought of Starling s great voice, his air of 
 power. " I hope to meet your cousin," I replied. 
 
 It was a churlish return, and she had been 
 gentle. The chill that fell between us was of 
 my making. I knew that with every second of 
 silence I was putting myself more deeply in the 
 wrong. But I had to ask one thing more.
 
 VARIOUS WELCOMES 331 
 
 " Madame, they tell me here that you say that 
 you regret our marriage, that I forced you to 
 bear my name. Have you said that ? " 
 
 I could not be blind to the hurt in her face. 
 "Monsieur, how can you ask?" 
 
 And then I was shamed. I knelt again to 
 her hand. "Only to prove in open words that 
 Lord Starling lied. Did you think I doubted ? 
 No, madame, no woman of our house has ever 
 had finer pride or a truer instinct. Believe me, 
 I see that. But so the story flies. Madame, all 
 eyes are on us. We must define the situation 
 in some manner as regards the world. May I 
 talk to you of this ?" 
 
 The hand under my lips grew warm. " Mon 
 sieur, we are to wait. When we reach Mon 
 treal" 
 
 "But, madame! These intervening months! 
 It will be late autumn before we return to Mon 
 treal." 
 
 She drew in her breath. "Late autumn! 
 Monsieur, what are your plans? You forget 
 that I know nothing. And tell me of your 
 escape." 
 
 I rose and looked down at her. "We have 
 both escaped," I said, and because emotion was 
 smiting me my voice was hard. "Let us not 
 talk of it. I see that you are here, and I thank 
 God. But I cannot yet bring myself to ask
 
 332 MONTLIVET 
 
 what you have been through. I cannot face the 
 horror of it for you. I beg you to understand. * 
 
 But it was I who did not understand when she 
 drew away. "As you will," she agreed, and 
 there was pride in her great eyes, but there 
 was a wound as well. Yet why," she went on, 
 "should a knowledge of human tragedy harden 
 a woman ? It strengthens a man. But enough. 
 Monsieur, have you heard the lady of the 
 miniature is at Montreal ? " 
 
 I was slow, for I was wondering how I had 
 vexed her. You never saw the miniature," I 
 parried. " How can you connect a name with it, 
 madame?" 
 
 She looked at me calmly. I hated her silk 
 gown that shone like a breastplate between us. 
 She brushed away my evasion. 
 
 "It is well known that you carried Madame 
 Bertheau s miniature. You were an ardent 
 suitor, monsieur." 
 
 Yes, I had been an ardent suitor. I remem 
 bered it with amaze. My tongue had not been 
 clogged and middle-aged, in those blithe days, 
 and yet those days were only two years gone. 
 With this woman even Pierre had better speech 
 at his command. 
 
 "Madame, who told you this?" 
 
 "Monsieur, the tale is common property in 
 Paris."
 
 VARIOUS WELCOMES 333 
 
 "May I ask who told you, madame?" 
 "My cousin, monsieur." 
 "I thought so." 
 
 She looked at me fairly, almost sadly, as if she 
 begged to read my mind. " Monsieur, why should 
 you regret my knowing ? It is to your credit that 
 you admire Madame Bertheau. They tell me 
 that she is a woman formed for love, beautiful, 
 childlike, untouched by knowledge of crime or 
 hardship. Monsieur, forgive me. Are you will 
 ing May I see the miniature?" 
 
 The transition in my thought was so abrupt 
 that I clapped my hand to my pocket as if it were 
 still there. 
 
 "It I am not carrying the miniature." 
 "Did did the Indians take it from you ?" 
 I stepped nearer. "Madame de Montlivet, 
 what right have I to be carrying another woman s 
 miniature ? I shall write the fact of my marriage 
 to Madame Bertheau, and the matter will be 
 closed. No, the Indians did not take the min 
 iature. I buried it in the woods." 
 
 "Monsieur, that was not necessary!" 
 "I thought that it was, madame." 
 She stood with a chair between us. "Mon 
 sieur," she said, with her eyes down, "I wish 
 that I had known. It was not necessary. Did 
 you bury the miniature when you married 
 me?"
 
 334 MONTLIVET 
 
 I put the chair aside and stood over her. " No, 
 madame, I did not bury the miniature the day 
 we were married. Do you remember the night 
 of the storm, the night when you asked me if I 
 could save you from your cousin ? I rose early 
 the next morning and digged a grave for the pic 
 ture. It is buried deep, with all that I once 
 thought that it implied. If I confess now that it 
 implied little you must find excuses for me. I 
 my heart was in the camp in those days. The 
 rest was pastime. I have left pastimes behind, 
 madame." 
 
 She would not look at me, yet I felt her change. 
 The flitting, indescribable air of elation that 
 marked her from all women in the world came 
 back. She was again the woman of the forest, 
 the woman who had waked with a song and 
 looked with unhurried pulse into the face of 
 danger. I breathed hard and bent to her, but 
 she kept her eyes away. 
 
 "The fair little French face," she murmured. 
 You should not have put it in the cold earth. 
 You were needlessly cruel, monsieur." 
 
 I bent lower. " I was not cruel. I gave her a 
 giant sepulchre. That is over. But I I shall 
 have another miniature. I know a skilled man 
 in Paris. Some time some time I mean to have 
 your portrait in your Indian blouse; in your skin 
 blouse with the sun in your hair." My free hand
 
 VARIOUS WELCOMES 335 
 
 suddenly crept to her shoulder. "May I have 
 it? May I have it, madame?" 
 
 I cannot remember. Often as I have tried, I 
 can never quite remember. I am not sure that 
 I heard her whisper. But I think that I did. 
 She quivered under my touch, but she did not 
 draw away, and so we stood for a moment, while 
 my hand wandered where it had gone in dreams 
 and rested on her hair. "Mary!" I whispered, 
 and once more we let the silence lie like a pledge 
 between us. 
 
 But in the moment of silence I heard again 
 what I had forgotten, the roar of the camp 
 outside. It seemed louder than it had been, and 
 it claimed my thought. I checked my breath to 
 listen, holding the woman s hand in mine. And 
 while we listened, Cadillac s loud step and cheer 
 ful voice came down the passage. The woman 
 drew her hand away, and I let her go. I let her 
 go as if I were ashamed. I have cursed myself 
 for that ever since. 
 
 Cadillac stopped. "Are you there, Montli- 
 vet ? " he called. " When you are at leisure, come 
 to my room." I heard his step retreat. 
 
 And then I turned to the woman. But with 
 Cadillac s voice a change had come. My mind 
 was again heavy with anxiety. I remembered 
 the thronging Indians without, the pressing re 
 sponsibilities within. I remembered the volcano
 
 336 MONTLIVET 
 
 under us. For the moment I could not think 
 of my personal claims on the woman. I could 
 think only of my anxiety for her. Yet I went to 
 her and took her hand. 
 
 " Mary, I am weary of madame and mon 
 sieur between us, you are my wife. May I talk 
 of our future?" 
 
 I spoke in the very words I had used the night 
 I asked her to marry me, to marry me for my 
 convenience. I remembered it as I heard my 
 tongue form the phrase, and it recalled my argu 
 ment of that time, that she must marry me 
 because my plans were more to me than her 
 wishes. 
 
 She withdrew from me. "Monsieur Cadillac 
 is waiting for you. You wield great power." 
 
 Something new had come to her tone. I would 
 have none of it. "Mary, may I talk to you?" 
 
 But still she drew away. "Monsieur, I am 
 confused, and you are needed elsewhere. Not 
 to-night, I beg you, not to-night." 
 
 I could not protest. In truth, I knew that 
 Cadillac needed me. I went with her to the 
 door. 
 
 " To-morrow, then ?" I begged. "Will you 
 listen to-morrow, madame?" 
 
 But she had grown very white. ;< You are im 
 portant here. There is work for you. Be care 
 ful of your safety. Please be careful."
 
 VARIOUS WELCOMES 337 
 
 I took her hand. "Thank you, madame." 
 There was much in my tone that I kept out of 
 my words, but she was not conscious of it. She 
 was not thinking of herself, and her eyes, that 
 were on mine, were full of trouble. All the re 
 straint that the last weeks had taught her had 
 come back to her look. 
 
 You wield great power," she repeated. "You 
 are to be the leader of the west. I see that. But 
 oh, be careful! Good-night, monsieur."
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 OVER CADILLAC S TABLE 
 
 I FOUND Cadillac writing, writing. Letters were 
 his safety valve. I had only to look at his table 
 to see how much he was perturbed. 
 
 And when I sat across from him, with the can 
 dles between, I saw that he was also perplexed. 
 That was unusual, for commonly he was off-hand 
 in his judgments, and leaped to conclusions like 
 a pouncing cat. He looked at me through the 
 candle-gloom and shook his head. 
 
 " Month vet, you have lost twenty pounds since 
 I saw you, and aged. Out on you, man! It is 
 not worth it. We live ten years in one in this 
 wilderness. We throw away our youth. Then 
 we go back to France and find ourselves old men, 
 worn out, uncouth, out at elbows, at odds with 
 our generation. It is not worth it. It is not 
 worth it, I say." 
 
 I was impatient. * What has happened since 
 the Senecas came?" 
 
 He made a tired grimace. "Principally that 
 I have not slept," he yawned. 
 
 You have seen no signs of an uprising?" 
 
 He put his head between his hands, and I saw
 
 that he was indeed weary. "There are never 
 signs till the uprising is on us. You know that. 
 I have done what I could. The guards are tre 
 bled, and we sleep on our swords. Montlivet, tell 
 me. What have you been doing in the west?" 
 
 I had expected him to finesse to this question. 
 I liked it that he gave it to me with a naked blade. 
 
 "I have been forming an Indian league," I 
 answered bluntly. 
 
 He nodded. "I know. There have been ru 
 mors. Then I knew what you did with the St. 
 Lawrence tribes last year. Why did you not tell 
 me when you went through here last spring?" 
 
 I shook my head. " I wished to prove myself. 
 It was an experiment. Then I desired a free 
 hand." 
 
 ;< You did not wish my help?" 
 
 "I wished to test the ground without entan 
 gling you. If I failed, why, I was nothing but a 
 fur trader. There had been no talk, no explana 
 tions, nothing. A trader went west ; he returned. 
 That would end it." 
 
 "But if you succeeded?" 
 
 I bowed to him. " If I succeeded I intended 
 to come to you for help and consultation, mon 
 sieur." 
 
 I saw his eyes gleam. The man loved war, 
 and his imagination was fertile as a jungle. I 
 knew that already he had taken my small vision,
 
 340 MONTLIVET 
 
 magnified it a thousand-fold, and peopled it with 
 fantasies. That was the man s mind. Fortu 
 nately he had humor, and that saved him, that 
 and letter-writing. He tapped out his emotion 
 through noisy finger-tips. 
 
 "How much are you ready to tell me now?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Everything, if you have patience." I 
 rested my well arm on the table, and went care 
 fully almost day by day over the time that 
 separated me from May. I gave detail but not 
 embroidery. Facts even if they be numerous 
 can be disposed of shortly, if fancy and philoso 
 phy be put aside. So my recital did not take me 
 long. 
 
 The gleam was still in Cadillac s eyes. "And 
 you think the western tribes would follow you 
 now?" 
 
 "They would have followed me a week ago." 
 
 He heard something sinister in my reply. 
 : You could have wiped out that Seneca camp," 
 he meditated. 
 
 "Yes, it could have been done." 
 
 He gave me a look. "The Malhominis 
 wished it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And you thought it unwise ?" 
 
 " They could not have done it without a leader. 
 And I could not lead them. I had to come here."
 
 OVER CADILLAC S TABLE 341 
 
 He smote the table till the candles flared. 
 "You were wrong. You were wrong. You 
 could have gathered your forces and had the at 
 tack over in a week, in less time. Then you 
 could have brought your troops with you, and 
 come to my aid. You were wrong." 
 
 I moved the candles out of danger. "I had 
 to follow madame," I said mechanically. "She 
 might have needed me." 
 
 Cadillac s teeth clicked. "Madame" he 
 began, but he swallowed the sentence, and rose 
 and walked the floor. "Do you realize what 
 you have done ? Do you realize what you have 
 done?" he boiled out at me. "This desertion 
 may have cost you your hold with the western 
 tribes." 
 
 "I realize that." 
 
 And then he cursed till the candles flared again. 
 "It was the chance of a lifetime," he concluded. 
 
 Why does the audience always feel that they 
 understand the situation better than the actor? 
 I was willing enough to let Cadillac rage, but re 
 sentful of the time he was using. 
 
 What happened when the Senecas came?" 
 I demanded. 
 
 He looked at me with puffing lips. "You 
 know nothing?" 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 "But Madame de Montlivet"
 
 342 MONTLIVET 
 
 "I asked her no questions." 
 
 He whistled under his breath. "Well no 
 thing happened. The flotilla reached here at 
 sundown three days ago. The Baron and his 
 followers met them at the beach and rushed the 
 Senecas into the Huron camp. They are there 
 now." 
 
 "But madame and Starling?" 
 
 "I demanded them of Pemaou, and he made 
 no objection." 
 
 "He made no conditions?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 I frowned at that and thought it over. 
 
 "What do you make of it?" Cadillac ques 
 tioned. 
 
 But I could only say I did not know. " Pemaou 
 is skillful about using us as his jailers," I went 
 on. "That may be his object now. He evi 
 dently finds some opposition in the Huron camp, 
 or you would have had massacre before this." 
 
 You think the Senecas are here for con 
 quest?" 
 
 " From all I could overhear, they are here to 
 look over the situation and exchange peace belts 
 with the Hurons. If they can command a suffi 
 cient force, they will fall on us now; if not, they 
 will rejoin the main camp and come to us later." 
 
 Cadillac fingered his sword. " It is rather des 
 perate," he said quietly, and he smiled. "But
 
 OVER CADILLAC S TABLE 343 
 
 we are not conquered yet. We shall have some 
 scalps first." 
 
 I shook my head. Your sword is ever too 
 uneasy. We may hold off an outbreak. They 
 have been here three days, and they have not 
 dared act. You wish to call a council?" 
 
 "If you will interpret." 
 
 " Give me a day first to see what I can learn. 
 I shall be out at daybreak. What does Starling 
 say?" 
 
 "He talks of nothing but safe conduct home. 
 He sticks to his tale well. He is a simple- 
 hearted, suffering man who has found his cousin 
 and whose mission is over. He is grateful for 
 our hospitality, he is grateful to you, he is grate 
 ful to everybody. How much shall we believe ?" 
 
 "Not more than is necessary." 
 
 " Montlivet, be frank. What do you make of 
 the man ? " 
 
 I looked down. " He is a compelling man. 
 He has a hero s frame." 
 
 "I am not blind. I asked what the frame 
 housed." 
 
 With hate in my throat I tried to speak justly. 
 "He has an intelligent mind, but a coward s 
 spirit. I think the two elements war in him 
 ceaselessly. I would not trust him, monsieur. 
 Is he on friendly terms with Pemaou now?" 
 
 "I do not know."
 
 344 MONTLIVET 
 
 "I wish you would find out for me. You have 
 agents." 
 
 "Madame de Montlivet could tell you." 
 
 I felt Cadillac s eyes. "I shall not question 
 Madame de Montlivet about her cousin." 
 
 Perhaps my tone was weary. It is hard to 
 hold up a shield night and day. I was conscious 
 that Cadillac s look altered. He withdrew his 
 glance; he pushed a hand toward me. 
 
 "It is a shame, Montlivet." 
 
 "Shall we let it go without discussion, mon 
 sieur?" 
 
 "No. Montlivet, you are more a fool than 
 any man I ever knew. You have more strained 
 ideas. You are preposterous. You belong to 
 the Middle Ages. Every one says so. Let me 
 speak." 
 
 "Not about my marriage, monsieur." 
 
 " Why not ? I am responsible. I let you sad 
 dle yourself with the situation. You did it partly 
 to save me. You are always doing some crack- 
 brained thing like that. I tell you, you are more 
 a fool than I ever knew. Perhaps that is the 
 reason that we all went into mourning when we 
 thought the Iroquois had you." 
 
 * Monsieur ! Monsieur ! 
 
 "No, wait, wait! I got you into this, I shall 
 get you out. Unless the Indians make trouble 
 I shall send Starling home with a convoy of my
 
 OVER CADILLAC S TABLE 345 
 
 own Indians. Your the woman shall go with 
 him. Then we will see what can be done about 
 the marriage. The story shall go to the Vatican." 
 
 I moved the candles that I might see his face 
 without the play of light and shadow between. 
 
 "Monsieur, you forget. The story that you 
 speak of is mine. If I wish to refer it to the 
 Vatican, I, myself, take it there. As to Madame 
 de Montlivet, she may wish to go east with her 
 cousin ; she may wish to remain here. The de 
 cision will rest with her. Monsieur ? " 
 
 Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " I may depend on you not to mention what we 
 have just said to any one?" 
 
 He gave me his hand. "Naturally, mon 
 sieur." 
 
 His tone touched me. 
 
 Then to to-morrow s work," I said briskly. 
 " Now I am to bed. I must rise early." 
 
 Cadillac went with me to the door, his arm 
 on my well shoulder. I saw by the delay in his 
 walk that he had more to say. It came slowly. 
 
 "Monsieur, one word. If you do not care to 
 see madame, if it is awkward Well, I can 
 arrange it without gossip. You need not see her 
 again, and no one need know. Leave that to me." 
 
 Not see her again! I do not know what sav 
 age, insane thing sprang to life in me. I struck 
 down Cadillac s arm.
 
 346 MONTLIVET 
 
 "You take liberties. You meddle insuffer 
 ably. She is my wife. I will see her when I 
 please." 
 
 I like to think that I was not responsible, 
 that it was the cry of a baited animal that could 
 stand no more. Yet all the torture Cadillac 
 had been giving me had been unconscious. He 
 stepped back and looked at me. 
 
 "My God! You fool!" 
 
 Oh, I could have knelt to him for shame ! My 
 tongue began apology, but my face told a better 
 tale. Cadillac held up his hand. 
 
 "Stop. Montlivet, you love the Englishwo 
 man ? Why, I thought I beg your pardon. 
 I was the fool." 
 
 I went stumblingly toward the door before I 
 could face him. Then I turned and held out 
 my hand. "There is no monopoly in fools. 
 Monsieur, if to love a woman, to love her against 
 her will and your own judgment, to love her 
 hopelessly, if that is folly, well, I am the worst 
 of fools, the most incurable. I am glad for you 
 to know this. Will you forget that I was a mad 
 man, monsieur?"
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 FROM HOUR TO HOUR 
 
 IT was well that I slept alone that night, for 
 more than once before day dawned I found my 
 self with my feet on the floor and my free arm 
 searching for a knife. I had flouted at imagi 
 nation, but now every howling dog became an 
 Indian raising the death cry. I asked Cadillac 
 to double the guard before the woman s quarters, 
 but even then I slept with an ear pricked for 
 trouble. And I was abroad early. 
 
 There are no straight roads in the wilderness; 
 all trails are devious. So with an Indian s mind. 
 I sat in Longuant s skin-roofed lodge and filled 
 hours with talk of Singing Arrow. The girl was 
 to wed Pierre at noon the next day. The mar 
 riage was to be solemnized in the chapel the next 
 afternoon, and the whites were to attend. The 
 affair was perhaps worth some talk, if Longuant 
 and I had been squaws yawning over our basket- 
 work. But we were men with knives, and Fear 
 was whispering at our shoulders. 
 
 The sun climbed, and noises and odors of mid 
 day came in the tent door. I plumped out a 
 direct question.
 
 348 MONTLIVET 
 
 "The tree of friendship that grows for the 
 Ottawas and the French, are its roots deep, 
 Longuant?" 
 
 The old chief looked at me. "What has my 
 brother seen ?" 
 
 "The Iroquois wolf, my brother. The Iro- 
 quois wolf snapping at the roots of this stately 
 tree. What will the Ottawas do, Longuant? 
 Will they drive the wolf away?" 
 
 The chief still studied me. "When a tree is 
 healthy," he argued, "a wolf cannot harm it; as 
 well dread the butterfly that lights on its leaves 
 or the ant that runs around its trunk. It is only 
 when a tree is unsound at heart that the snapping 
 of a wolf can jar it. And an unsound tree is dan 
 gerous. My brother will agree that it is best 
 to cut it down." 
 
 I rose. " The wolf can do more than snap ; his 
 fangs are poisoned. Listen, my brother. This 
 tree of friendship is dear to me. I have given 
 labor to preserve it; I have watered it; I have 
 killed the insects and small pests that would have 
 nibbled at its branches. Now that I see its roots 
 threatened, my heart is heavy and the sun looks 
 dim. Can my brother brighten the world for me ? 
 Can he tell me that my fears are light as mist?" 
 
 Longuant looked at the ground. In repose 
 his face was very sad, as are the faces of most 
 savage leaders.
 
 FROM HOUR TO HOUR 349 
 
 "I have only two eyes, two ears," he crooned 
 monotonously. " My brother has as many. Let 
 him use them." 
 
 "And you will not lift your hatchet to save the 
 tree?" 
 
 Longuant raised his eyes. "The hatchet of 
 the Ottawas is always bright. My brethren will 
 hold it in readiness. If the tree looks strong and 
 worth saving, they will raise the hatchet and de 
 fend it. If the tree is unsound, they will put the 
 hatchet at its roots." 
 
 Well, I had my answer. And, to be just, I 
 could not blame them. The Ottawas were never 
 a commanding people. Their chief was wise 
 to throw his vote with the winning side. But 
 I turned away saddened. 
 
 Longuant followed. "There is always a bed 
 in the lodges of the Ottawas for my brother of 
 the red heart. Will he sleep in it?" 
 
 I turned. "Would my head be safer if I did, 
 O brother of the wise tongue?" 
 
 "My brother has said it." 
 
 I took a Flemish knife from my pocket and 
 handed it to him. 
 
 "Take it, my brother, for my gratitude. It 
 shall not cut the friendship between us. It shall 
 cut any stranger that would come between your 
 heart and mine. Longuant, I have a wife. She 
 is fair, and stars shine in her eyes. She has
 
 350 MONTLIVET 
 
 loved a daughter of your people. I cannot hide 
 in your lodge, a man who carries a sword 
 must use it, but will you take my wife and keep 
 her ? Will you keep her with Singing Arrow for 
 a few days?" 
 
 Longuant thought a moment. He looked at 
 the knife as if it were a talisman to teach him 
 how much he could trust me; he tried its edge, 
 put it in his pouch, and made up his mind. 
 
 " My brother is keen and true as the blade of 
 the knife. I will tell him a story, a story that 
 the birds sang. The eagle once married. He 
 married one of the family of the hawk. But the 
 hawk found the eagle s nest too high, so she flew 
 lower to a nest near her own kin. Listen. So 
 long as the hawk stays near the hawk and is 
 not seen with the eagle, the wolf will spare her. 
 But when she comes back to the eagle s nest 
 in the high tree, then let her beware. I have 
 spoken. Now let my brother go on his way and 
 see what his eyes and ears can teach him." 
 
 But I went my way with thought busier than 
 eyes. So I must keep away from the woman. 
 I went to my room, found paper and a quill, and 
 wrote to her. It was the first time I had written 
 her name. It seemed foreign to me, almost a sad 
 jest, as it flowed out under my hand. 
 
 "I cannot come to you to-day," I wrote; 
 "perhaps not for some days to come. I shall be
 
 FROM HOUR TO HOUR 351 
 
 watching you, guarding you. I think I can assure 
 you that you are in no danger. For the rest, I 
 must beg of you to wait for me and to trust me. 
 The women of the name you bear have often had 
 the same burden laid on them and have carried 
 it nobly. Yet I know that your courage will 
 match and overreach anything they have shown. 
 I salute you, madame, in homage. I shall come 
 to you the moment that I may." 
 
 I subscribed myself her husband. Yet even 
 the Indians gossiped that the eagle s nest was 
 empty. Well, I had work on hand. 
 
 So I found Cadillac. I told him in five min 
 utes what it had taken me five hours to learn. 
 
 " We must give our strength now to winning 
 the Hurons," I said. "I will work with them 
 this afternoon. If we can get through this 
 one night safely I think we can carry the coun 
 cil." 
 
 Cadillac shrugged, but sped me on my way. 
 " Be careful of to-night. Be careful of to-night," 
 he repeated monotonously. His eyes were grow 
 ing bloodshot from anxiety and loss of sleep. 
 
 The afternoon slipped away from me like run 
 ning water, yet I wasted no word or look. I 
 dropped my old custom of letting my tongue win 
 the way for my ears, and I dealt out blunt ques 
 tions like a man at a forge. At one point I was 
 foiled. I could not discover whether Starling
 
 352 MONTLIVET 
 
 whom personally I had not seen was in com 
 munication with the Hurons. 
 
 The sun set, the sky purpled, and the moon 
 rose. It rose white and beautiful, and it shone 
 on a peaceful settlement. I went to my room 
 and found a Huron squatting on my threshold. 
 He gave me a handful of maize. 
 
 "Our chief, whom you call the Baron, sends 
 this to you," he said. "He bids you eat the 
 corn, and swallow with it the suspicion that you 
 feel. You have sat all day with other chiefs, 
 but your brother the Baron has not seen you. 
 His lodge cries out with emptiness. He bids you 
 come to him now." 
 
 I thought a moment. " Go in front of me," I 
 told the Huron. 
 
 I whistled as I went. A sheep that goes to 
 the shambles of its own accord deserves to be 
 butchered, and I was walking into ambush. But 
 still I whistled. I whistled the same tune again 
 and again, and I did it with great lung power. 
 My progress was noisy. 
 
 And so we went through the Huron camp. 
 The lodges of the Baron s followers were massed 
 to one side, and as I whistled and swaggered my 
 way past their great bark parallelograms, I saw 
 preparations for war. The braves carried quiv 
 ers, and were elaborately painted. Fires were 
 burning, though the night was warm, and women
 
 FROM HOUR TO HOUR 353 
 
 nearly naked, and swinging kettles of red-hot 
 coals, danced heavily around the blaze. They 
 leered at me when they heard my whistle, but 
 they made no attempt to hide from me. Evi 
 dently I was not important; I was not to be al 
 lowed to go back to the French camp alive, so 
 I could do no harm. I whistled the louder. 
 
 I reached the Baron s lodge, and looked within. 
 Two fires blazed in the centre, and some fifty 
 Indians sat in council. I would not enter. The 
 smoke and fire were in my eyes, but I recognized 
 several of the younger chiefs, and called them by 
 name. 
 
 "Come out here to me," I commanded. "I 
 will show you something." 
 
 There was a grunting demur, and no one rose. 
 I whistled again and stopped to laugh. The 
 laugh pricked their curiosity, and the chiefs 
 straggled out. They stood in an uncertain 
 group and looked at me. It was dark ; the moon 
 was still low, and the shadows black and sprawl 
 ing. The open doors of the lodges sent out as 
 much smoke as fireshine. 
 
 I let them look for a moment, then I took the 
 handful of maize and threw it in their faces. 
 "Listen!" I cried. "Chiefs, you are traitors. 
 You eat the bread of the French, yet you would 
 betray them. You plan an uprising to-night. 
 Well, you will find us ready. I whistled as I
 
 354 MONTLIVET 
 
 came to you. That was a signal. You think 
 you can overpower us. Try it. Seize me, if you 
 like. If you do, I shall give one more whistle, 
 and my troops the loyal Indians will go to 
 work. You can see them gathering. Look." 
 
 I waved my hand at the murk around us. My 
 words were brave but my flesh was cold. I had 
 told them to look, but what would they see? 
 Would my men be loyal ? Then the signal, 
 it had been hastily agreed upon, would they 
 understand it? I had to push myself around 
 like a dead body to face what I might find. 
 
 For a moment I thought that I had found no 
 thing. But I looked again, and saw that my 
 eyes had been made blank by fear. For my 
 men were massed to east and west. They 
 pressed nearer and nearer, and the moon picked 
 out points of light that marked knives and arque 
 buses. Some wore uniforms, and some were 
 naked and vermilion-dyed, but all were watching 
 me. I could not see their eyes, but I was con 
 scious of them. 
 
 I pointed the chiefs to the prospect. You 
 see. I have only to whistle, and we shall settle 
 this question of who is master here. Seize me, 
 and I shall whistle. But I shall do nothing till 
 you move first. If we are to have war, you must 
 begin it. Are you ready?" 
 
 Silence followed. It was a hard silence for me
 
 FROM HOUR TO HOUR 355 
 
 to get through calmly, for I knew that my men 
 were not so numerous as they appeared, and I 
 feared to be taken at my word. Pemaou glided 
 up and spoke to his father. I had not seen him 
 since the night in the Seneca camp, and I argued 
 with myself to keep my head cool so that I 
 should not spring on him. His body was black 
 ened with charcoal, and he wore a girdle of otter 
 skin with the body of a crow hanging from it. I 
 had sometimes been called the crow because of 
 my many tongues, and I understood his meaning. 
 But I could only stand waiting, and the moments 
 went on and on. 
 
 It was a small thing that determined the issue. 
 In the distance Pierre began to whistle, Pierre, 
 the bridegroom of the morrow, the merry bully 
 of the night. He had a whistle in keeping with 
 his breadth of shoulder, and he used it like a 
 mating cock. He whistled my tune, the signal. 
 It was not accident, I think, neither was it de 
 sign. It was his unconscious, blundering black 
 art, his intuition that was witchcraft. 
 
 The Baron drew himself up. He put out a 
 protesting hand, and his dignity of gesture would 
 have shamed an Israelitish patriarch. 
 
 "We called our brother to council. What 
 does our brother mean ? He is moon-mad when 
 he talks of war in the house of his friends, the 
 Hurons."
 
 356 MONTLIVET 
 
 I yawned in his face. :< You called me to 
 council ? But the council is to-morrow night. 
 The commandant calls it. Save your fair words 
 for him." 
 
 I turned on my heel to leave, but the Baron 
 held me. He eyed me above his blanket. 
 
 "My brother has been called the man who 
 steals the Indian s heart from his body," he 
 purred at me. " He has stolen mine. The com 
 mandant is a fool ; I cannot talk to him. But 
 to you, my brother, I can open my heart. Come 
 with me to my lodge and listen. You shall be 
 safe. In token of my love I give you this calu 
 met," and he took his great feathered pipe the 
 pipe that means honor to the lowest of savages 
 and would have thrust it in my hands. 
 
 I was too nonplussed to remember to laugh. 
 An offer to buy me, and from the Indian who 
 hated me most ! They must indeed be afraid of 
 me, and with what little cause. Where had my 
 reputation come? I knew my own weakness. 
 Well, I must play on my fame while it lasted. 
 So, without deigning to answer, I turned away. 
 My troops hedged me like a wall as I went back 
 to the French camp, but I did not speak to them. 
 It was strange to see them melt before me. I did 
 not wonder that the Hurons smelled witchcraft 
 where, in fact, there was only bluster and a plead 
 ing tongue.
 
 FROM HOUR TO HOUR 357 
 
 I stood for a moment and looked at the garri 
 son. The moon had crept high and the place 
 was very still. We were safe for the night. I 
 lit my pipe, and the smoke that spiraled above 
 me did not seem more filmy than the chance that 
 had saved us. I suddenly shivered. But we were 
 safe. I gave the troops the signal to disband. 
 
 I stopped for a moment at Cadillac s door. 
 "Sleep well," I said, with my hand on his; "we 
 have bridged to-night. Now for the council to 
 morrow. "
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 IN COUNCIL 
 
 THE next morning showed the face of War 
 without her mask. The Indians sat in open 
 council, and the tom-toms sounded from lodge 
 to lodge. In the Huron camp there were coun 
 cil rings of the women ; it was a tribal crisis and 
 was met by a frenzy of speech-making. As a 
 rival interest Singing Arrow s wedding made lit 
 tle stir. 
 
 I went to the wedding and saw Pierre the 
 savage transformed into Pierre the citizen, the 
 yoke -bearer. I feared the transformation was 
 not final. Yet I could never read my giant. 
 There were unexpected ridges of principle in the 
 general slough of his makeup and perhaps the 
 Indian girl was resting on one of them. 
 
 The woman came to the wedding, Starling 
 with her. I bowed to them both, but I would 
 do no more, for the Indians were watching. The 
 woman looked pale and grave. I had seen her 
 angry and I had seen her despairing, but I had 
 never before seen her dispirited. She looked so 
 now. 
 
 And then came the general council with
 
 IN COUNCIL 359 
 
 Cadillac in the chair. It was held in a barrack 
 room and the tribes had forty chiefs in waiting. 
 There were Ottawas, Hurons, and the party of 
 Senecas. Feathered and painted, they were as ex 
 pressionless as the stone calumets in their hands ; 
 by contrast, our French faces were childishly 
 open and expressive. 
 
 Cadillac looked them over and began his 
 speech. Commonly his tongue ran trippingly, 
 but with the opening words his speech halted. I 
 knew he was moved. With all his volubility 
 the man took responsibility heavily, and these 
 strange bronze men with their cruel eyes and 
 impassive faces were his wards. He spoke in 
 French, and I translated first to the Hurons, then 
 to the Ottawas. He called the tribes to aid him 
 in brightening the covenant chain, and his rheto 
 ric mounted with his theme till I felt my blood 
 heat with admiration for him. He concluded 
 with a plea for loyalty, and he gave each nation 
 a belt to bind his words. 
 
 And then the chiefs rose in reply. The Hurons 
 spoke first, and though they hedged their mean 
 ing by look and word I could feel the sentiment 
 swaying toward our side. They brought up 
 many minor points and gave belts in confirma 
 tion. Kondiaronk s clan were openly friendly, 
 openly touched by Cadillac s speech, and when 
 one of the Baron s band took the cue and gave
 
 360 MONTLIVET 
 
 a wampum necklace, "to deter the French 
 brothers from unkind thoughts," I felt that the 
 worst of the day was over, and welcomed the 
 Ottawa speakers with a relaxation of the ten 
 sion that had held me, for I had been upon the 
 rack. Mind and ear had been taxed to miss no 
 word or intonation, for a slighted syllable might 
 lose our cause. The speeches had droned like 
 flies at midday, but all the verbiage had been 
 heavy with significance. I spoke French, Huron, 
 and Ottawa in turn, and through it all I listened, 
 listened for the opening of the door. 
 
 For Cadillac had told me that Madame de 
 Montlivet had asked if she might come in for a 
 moment and listen to the council, and he had 
 referred the matter to me. It had seemed a 
 strange request, but I could see no reason for 
 refusing it. The woman had seen Indians in 
 camp and field; it was perhaps no wonder that 
 she wished to see the machinery of their politics. 
 It was agreed that Dubisson should bring her 
 in for a short time. 
 
 Yet when she did come in I could not look at 
 her. Longuant had just finished speaking, and 
 I had all my mind could handle to do him justice 
 as I wished. He spoke as the moderate leader 
 who desired that his people leave the hatchet 
 unlifted if they could do so with safety. He 
 gave a robe stained with red to show that his
 
 IN COUNCIL 361 
 
 people remembered the French who had died 
 for them. 
 
 I knew, as I repeated Longuant s speech, that 
 I was doing it well, helping it out with trick and 
 metaphor. And I also knew, with a shrug for 
 my childishness, that my wits were working more 
 swiftly than they had, because the woman was 
 listening. I saw the whole scene with added viv 
 idness and significance because her eyes rested 
 on it, too. Once I glanced up and looked at her 
 briefly. Day had slipped into dusk, and the 
 bare, shadow-haunted room was lighted with 
 torches stuck in the crannies of the log walls. 
 The flaring light lapped her like a waving gar 
 ment and showed her daintily erect, silk-clad, 
 elate and resolute, a flower of a carefully tended 
 civilization. And then my eyes went back 
 where they belonged, to the lines of warriors 
 robed like senators, attentive and august, full 
 of wisdom where the woman knew nothing, yet 
 blank as animals to the treasures of her mind. 
 The contrast thrilled through me like a violin 
 note. I heard my tongue use imagery that I did 
 not know was in me. The woman waited till 
 I was through, and I could feel that she was lis 
 tening. Then she turned with Dubisson and they 
 went out of the door. 
 
 Longuant was the last of our garrison Indians 
 to speak, and when he finished it remained to
 
 362 MONTLIVET 
 
 Cadillac to sum up the situation. He picked 
 out the oldest men from each delegation and 
 stood before them. Yet, though he spoke to all, 
 it was at Longuant that he looked. 
 
 "Listen," he said. "Hast ever seen the moon 
 in the lake when the evening is clear and the 
 weather calm ? It appears in the water, yet no 
 thing is truer than that it is in the sky. Some 
 among you are very old; but know, that were 
 you all to return to early youth and take it into 
 your heads to fish up the moon in the lake, you 
 would more easily succeed in scooping that planet 
 up in your nets than in effecting what you are 
 ruminating now. In vain do you fatigue your 
 brains. You cannot live with the bear and share 
 your food with the wolf. You must choose. Be 
 assured of this; the English and French can 
 not be in the same place without killing one 
 another." 
 
 There was more in the same vein. Only one 
 nation could hold the country for the fur trade. 
 If the French were that nation the Indians would 
 be protected, their fighting men would be given 
 arms, their families would be cared for, the 
 great father at Quebec would reward them as 
 brothers. He gave the Hurons and Ottawas 
 each a war belt to testify to his intention. 
 
 Here was the crisis. But each tribe took the 
 belt and kept it. I could scarcely forbear glan-
 
 IN COUNCIL 363 
 
 cing at Cadillac. But I dared not be too elated, 
 for we had yet the Senecas to deal with. Cadil 
 lac turned to them and asked their mission among 
 us. He did it briefly, and I hoped they would 
 answer with equal bluntness, for I dreaded this 
 part of the council. All of the Iroquois nations 
 were trained rhetoricians, and I would need a 
 long ear to catch their verbal quibbles and see 
 where their sophistry was hiding. 
 
 Cannehoot, their oldest chief, spoke for them 
 all. He made proposal after proposal with belts 
 and tokens to seal them. His speech was mod 
 erate, but his ideas crowded ; it was hard to keep 
 them in sequence. 
 
 They had come to learn wisdom of us. They 
 gave a belt. 
 
 They had come to wipe the war paint from our 
 soldiers faces. They gave another belt. 
 
 They wished the sun to shine on us. They 
 gave a large marble as red as the sun. 
 
 They wished the rain of heaven to wash away 
 hatred. They gave a chain of wampum. 
 
 And so on and on and on. They gave belts, 
 beavers, trinkets. They had peace in their 
 mouths and kindness in their hearts. They 
 desired to tie up the hatchet, to sweep the road 
 between the French and themselves free from 
 blood. But with that clause they gave no belt. 
 They made no mention of the English prisoners,
 
 364 MONTLIVET 
 
 and they desired to close their friendly visit and 
 to go home. 
 
 Cadillac looked at them with contempt. He 
 was always too choleric to hide his mind, and he 
 answered with little pretense at civility. He gave 
 them permission to go home, and sent a knife 
 by them to their kindred. It was not for war, 
 he told them, but that they might cut the veil 
 that hung before their eyes, and see things as 
 they really were. He left their belts lying on the 
 floor, and dismissed the council. He motioned 
 to me to follow, and we went at once to his room. 
 
 And alone in his room we looked at each other 
 with relief. We had gained one point, and though 
 the road was long ahead, we could breathe for a 
 moment. We had not healed the sore, but it was 
 covered, cauterized. We dropped into chairs 
 and sought our pipes. 
 
 But Cadillac s fingers were soon drumming. 
 " It was odd that they did not demand the Eng 
 lish prisoners," he said. 
 
 I felt placid enough as regarded that point. 
 "They did not dare. When do the Senecas 
 leave?" 
 
 "To-morrow morning. Oh, Montlivet, it 
 grinds me to let them go!" 
 
 I shrugged at his choler. " We will follow," I 
 comforted. " We will overtake them at La Baye." 
 
 " But suppose they leave La Baye. They may
 
 IN COUNCIL 365 
 
 break camp at once and push on. We may miss 
 them." 
 
 I smoked, and shook my head. "If they do, 
 we cannot help it. But I think there is no dan 
 ger. They will want to halt some time at La 
 Baye, and try for terms with those tribes. My 
 work there has been secret, even Pemaou does 
 not seem to know of it, and they do not suspect 
 a coalition. So they feel safe. I think that we 
 shall find them." 
 
 And then we sat for a time in silence. I stared 
 at the future, and saw a big decision beetling 
 before me. When I dread a moment, I rush to 
 meet it, which is the behavior of a spoiled boy. 
 
 "You will get rid of Starling to-morrow?" I 
 asked. 
 
 Cadillac nodded. Yes. He is best out of the 
 way, and, though I see nothing to mistrust in 
 the man, I shall feel better if he goes east while 
 the Senecas go west." 
 
 "How will you send him?" 
 
 "To Montreal with an escort of Ottawas. 
 From there he can make his own way." 
 
 I looked down. "Madame de Montlivet may 
 wish to go at the same time. You must arrange 
 for her also if she wishes." 
 
 Cadillac shrugged. You leave the decision 
 with her?" 
 
 "Absolutely, monsieur."
 
 366 MONTLIVET 
 
 Cadillac rapped his knuckles together. " Don t 
 run romanticism into the ground, Montlivet." 
 
 But my inflammable temper did not rise. "A 
 woman certainly has some right of selection. 
 Starling says that I forced her to marry me. 
 That is substantially true. What time do you 
 plan to have Starling leave?" 
 
 "As early as possible. I shall not tell him to 
 night. It will take a little time to get the canoes 
 in readiness." 
 
 "Then I shall see Madame de Montlivet in the 
 morning, as early as possible. I shall let you 
 know her decision at once, monsieur." 
 
 "Montlivet, she will need time to consider." 
 
 I shook my head. "She has thought the 
 matter out. I think her answer will be ready." 
 And then we said good-night.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 CHILDREN OF OPPORTUNITY 
 
 IT was but little after dawn the next morning 
 when I met Madame de Montlivet in the waiting- 
 room of the commandant. 
 
 It was a crisp, clear morning, blue of water and 
 sky. I stood at the window and looked at the 
 water-way that led to the east, and waited for my 
 wife. I had several speeches prepared for her, 
 but when she came I said none of them. I took 
 her hand and led her to the window. 
 
 "Look at the path of the sun, madame. It 
 was just such a morning when you came to me 
 first." 
 
 Her hand lingered a moment in mine. "I 
 came to the most gallant gentleman that I have 
 ever known." 
 
 With all the kindness of her words there was 
 something in them that spoke of parting. "Then 
 will you stay with him?" I cried. "Mary, I 
 know no gallant gentleman. To me he seems 
 much a fool and a dreamer. But such as he is 
 he is loyally yours. Will you stay with him ? Or 
 will you start for Montreal this morning with 
 your cousin ?"
 
 368 MONTLIVET 
 
 "This morning?" 
 
 ; Yes, as soon as the canoes can be made 
 ready. I did not know this till after midnight. 
 I wish I might have warned you." 
 
 This is warning enough. I was sure that 
 this was what you had to tell me when you asked 
 for me so early. There is but one thing for me to 
 do. I must go with my cousin." 
 
 I heard the words, but I felt incredulous, stu 
 pid. I was prepared to meet this decision after 
 argument, not to have it fall on me in this leaden 
 way. I dropped her hand and walked to and fro. 
 It was useless to ask if she had thought out her 
 decision carefully. Her tone disposed of that. 
 I went back and stood before her. 
 
 "The question is yours to decide. Yet I 
 should be a strange man if I let you go without 
 being sure I understood your motives. If you go 
 because you wish to be free from me, that is all 
 that need be said. But if I have failed to woo 
 you as a man should - You sealed my lips. 
 Will you let me open them now?" 
 
 Perhaps my hand went out to her. At all 
 events she drew away, and I thought her look 
 frightened, as if something urged her to me that 
 she must resist. 
 
 "No, no, you must not woo me, you must not. 
 I beg you, monsieur." 
 
 I looked at her panic and shook my head.
 
 CHILDREN OF OPPORTUNITY 369 
 
 "Why do you fear to love me, to yield to me? 
 You are my wife." 
 
 " I told you. I told you the day the last day 
 that we were together in the woods. It would be 
 a tragedy if we loved, monsieur." 
 
 "But you are my wife." 
 
 She looked at me. The light from the window 
 fell full in her great eyes, and they were the eyes 
 of the boy who had looked up at me in that very 
 room ; the boy who had captured me, against my 
 reason, by his spirit and will. I felt the same 
 challenge now. 
 
 "I am your wife, yes," she was saying slowly. 
 "That is, the priest said some words over us that 
 we both denied in our hearts. I cannot look at 
 marriage in that way, monsieur. No priest, no 
 ritual can make a marriage if the right thing 
 is not there. The fact that you gave me your 
 name to shield me does not give me a claim 
 on you in my mind. Wait. Let me say more. 
 You have great plans, great opportunity. You 
 will make a great leader, monsieur." 
 
 Her words sounded mockery. "Thank you, 
 madame." I knew my tone was bitter. 
 
 She looked at me reproachfully. " Monsieur, 
 you are unkind. I meant what I said. I heard 
 you in the council yesterday. I asked to go in 
 that I might hear you. I know something of 
 what you have done this summer. I know how
 
 370 MONTLIVET 
 
 you fended away massacre the other night. 
 This is a crucial time, and you are the only man 
 who can handle the situation ; the only man who 
 has influence to lead the united tribes. Your 
 opportunity is wonderful. You are making his 
 tory. You may be changing the map of nations, 
 you alone here working with a few Indians. 
 Believe me, I see it all. It is wonderful, mon 
 sieur." 
 
 "But what has this to do with you and me ?" 
 "Just this, monsieur. I cannot forget my 
 blood. I am an Englishwoman. I come of a 
 family that has chosen exile rather than yield a 
 point of honor that involved the crown. I have 
 been bred to that idea of country, nurtured on it. 
 Could I stay with you and see you work against 
 my people ? If I were a different sort of woman ; 
 if I were the gentle girl that you should marry, 
 one who knew no life but flattery and courts, like 
 the lady of the miniature, why, then it might 
 be possible for me to think of you only in relation 
 to myself, and to forget all that you stood for. 
 But I am what I am. I have known tragedy 
 and suffering. I cannot blind myself with 
 dreams as a girl might, and I understand fully the 
 significance of what you are doing. We should 
 have a divided hearth, monsieur." 
 
 She had made her long speech with breaks, 
 but I had not interrupted her. And now that
 
 CHILDREN OF OPPORTUNITY 371 
 
 she had finished I did not speak till she looked at 
 me in wonder. 
 
 "I am thinking. I see that it comes to this, 
 madame. I must renounce either my work or 
 my wife." 
 
 She suddenly stretched out her hand. "Oh, 
 I would not have you renounce your work, mon 
 sieur!" 
 
 A chair stood in front of her, and I brushed it 
 away and let it clatter on the floor. 
 
 "Mary! Mary, you love me!" 
 
 "No, no!" she cried. "No, monsieur, it need 
 not mean I love you, it need not." She fled 
 from me and placed a table between us. " Surely 
 a woman can understand a man s power, and 
 glory in it yes, glory in it, monsieur with 
 out loving the man!" 
 
 "But if you did love me, if you did love me, 
 what then ? " 
 
 "Oh, monsieur, the misery of it for us if 
 we loved ! I have seen it from the beginning, 
 though at times I forgot. For there is nothing 
 for us but to part." 
 
 " Many women have forgotten country for their 
 husbands. The world has called them wise." 
 
 She put out her hand. "Not in my family, 
 monsieur." 
 
 And then the face of Lord Starling came before 
 me. "You have changed from the woman of
 
 372 MONTLIVET 
 
 the wilderness. You changed when you put on 
 this gown. You were different even three days 
 ago. Some influence has worked on you here." 
 
 She understood me. Yes, my cousin has 
 talked to me. Yet I think that I am not echoing 
 him, monsieur. If I have hardened in the last 
 few days, it is because I have come to see the in- 
 evitableness of what I am saying now. I have 
 grasped the terrible significance of what is hap 
 pening. May I ask you some questions ?" 
 
 "Yes, Mary." 
 
 " Oh, you must not - The Seneca messengers, 
 you will let them go back and rejoin their camp ? " 
 
 "We can do nothing else." 
 
 "And you will follow them, and attack them at 
 La Baye?" 
 
 "So we plan." 
 
 "But the Senecas trust you." 
 
 " Not for a moment. They think we fear their 
 power over the Hurons, as we do, so they 
 are reckless. They are undoubtedly carrying 
 peace belts from our Hurons to the Iroquois and 
 the English. We must intercept them." 
 
 She tried to ward my words, and all that they 
 stood for, away. You see! You see!" she 
 cried, "we must part. We must part while we 
 can. Monsieur, say no more. I beg you, mon 
 sieur." And she dropped in a chair by the table 
 and laid her head in her arms.
 
 CHILDREN OF OPPORTUNITY 373 
 
 I could say nothing. I stood helpless and 
 dizzy. I had asked her to forget her country. 
 Yet not once had she asked me to forget mine. 
 If I gave up my plans I could go to her now and 
 draw her to my breast. I gripped the table, and 
 I did not see clearly. To save her life I had 
 jeopardized my plans; to follow her here I had 
 jeopardized them again. But now that I knew 
 her to be safe No, I could not turn back; I 
 must walk the path I had laid for myself. 
 
 "What will you do with yourself, with your 
 life ?" I asked with stiff lips. 
 
 She did not raise her head. "We are both 
 children of opportunity. What is left either of us 
 but ambition, monsieur?" 
 
 "You will help your cousin in his plans ?" 
 
 "If he will work for the state." 
 
 "But you will not marry him?" 
 
 "Monsieur, I bear your name! That that 
 troubles me sorely. To bear your name yet 
 work against France! Yet what can I do?" 
 
 I touched her hair. " Carry my name and do 
 what you will. I shall understand. As to what 
 the world thinks, we are past caring for that, 
 madame." 
 
 And then for a time we sat silent. I thought, 
 with stupid iteration, of how like a jest this had 
 sounded when the woman said it to me in the 
 forest : a matter for coquetry, a furnishing of foils
 
 374 MONTLIVET 
 
 for the game. If I had realized then But 
 no, what could I have done ? 
 
 One thing my thought cried incessantly, 
 women were not made for patriotism. Yet even 
 as accompaniment to the thought, a long line of 
 women who had given up life and family for 
 country passed before my memory. Could I say 
 that this woman beside me had not equal spirit ? 
 
 It seemed long that we sat there, though I 
 think that it was not. I laid my hand on hers, 
 and she turned her palm that she might clasp my 
 fingers. 
 
 You have never failed me, never, never," she 
 whispered. You are not failing me now." 
 And then I heard Starling s voice at the door 
 calling my name. 
 
 I opened to him mechanically, and accepted 
 his pleasant phrases with a face like wood, 
 though my manner was apt enough, I think. I 
 had no feeling as regarded him; all my thought 
 was with the woman by the table. 
 
 He went to her with his news, but she inter 
 rupted him. "I know." Her face was as ex 
 pressionless as my own. " I am going with you," 
 she said to him. " When do we leave ?" 
 
 "In a few minutes." He looked from one to 
 the other of us, and if he could not probe the situ 
 ation it was perhaps no wonder. We had forgot 
 ten him, and we sat like dead people. For once
 
 CHILDREN OF OPPORTUNITY 375 
 
 his tremendous, compelling presence was ignored, 
 yet my tongue replied to him courteously, and I 
 could not but admit the perfection of his attitude. 
 He deplored the necessity that took his cousin 
 from me ; he, and all of his people, labored under 
 great indebtedness to me. He was dignified, 
 direct of thought and speech. The man whom 
 I had seen by the dead ashes of the camp fire; 
 the man who had held my wife s miniature, and 
 taunted me with what it meant, that man was 
 gone. This was an elder brother, a grave elder 
 brother, chastened by suffering. 
 
 The woman closed the scene. "I am pre 
 pared to go with you," she told him. "I shall 
 wait here till the canoes are ready. Will you 
 leave me with my husband ?" 
 
 She had never before said "husband" in my 
 hearing. As soon as the door clicked behind 
 Starling I went to her. I knelt and laid my cheek 
 on her hand. 
 
 ; You are going to stay with me, Mary. You 
 are my wife. You cannot escape that. It is 
 fundamental. Patriotism is a man-made feel 
 ing. You are going to stay with me. I am 
 going now to tell Cadillac." 
 
 But I could feel her tremble. "If you say 
 more, I must leave you. You cannot alter my 
 mind. What has come must come. Can we not 
 sit together in silence till I go ? "
 
 376 MONTLIVET 
 
 And so I sat beside her. You are a strange 
 woman," I said at length. 
 
 She looked at me as if to plead her own cause. 
 "Strange events have made me. I cannot mar 
 vel if you are bitter, for I have brought you un- 
 happiness. Yet it was in this room that I asked 
 you to remember that I went with you against my 
 will." 
 
 "I remember." 
 
 "And will you remember what what I have 
 seen ? Is it strange that I understand ; that I 
 know we must part?" 
 
 I shook my head. "It is your cousin s mind 
 impressed on yours that tells you that we must 
 part, that and your unfathomable spirit, the 
 spirit that carried you in man s dress through 
 those weeks as a captive. It is that same spirit 
 that will bring you back to me some day." 
 
 "Monsieur!" 
 
 "That will bring you back." 
 
 "Monsieur, no. I cannot change myself." 
 
 "Would I have you change? Mary, Mary! 
 I took you as a boy with me to the wilderness be 
 cause you had an unbreakable will and a fanatic s 
 courage. Yet this is not the end. It is not the 
 end." 
 
 She did not answer, and again she laid her head 
 on the table. We had but a few minutes left 
 now. I saw her look up at me twice before I
 
 CHILDREN OF OPPORTUNITY 377 
 
 heard her whisper, " Monsieur, you said that I 
 loved you. But you never said that you" 
 
 "Would it change your decision if I said it 
 now?" 
 
 "No, no! It could not." 
 
 I slipped to my knees and laid my lips on her 
 clasped hands. You are part of me. You go 
 with me whether you will or no. You are in the 
 red sunsets that we saw together, and in the 
 white dawns when we ate our meal and meat side 
 by side. You are fettered to me. I cannot rid 
 myself of your presence for a moment. I shall 
 tell you more of this when you come to me again." 
 
 She bent to me with the color driven from her 
 lips. "Don t! Don t! We will learn to forget. 
 We are both rulers of our wills. We will learn to 
 forget. Wait- Are they calling me ?" 
 
 We listened. Cadillac was at the door. We 
 both rose. 
 
 "In a moment," I called to him. Then I 
 turned. " Whatever happens, keep to the east 
 ward. Don t let your Indians turn. Refuse, and 
 make Starling refuse, to listen to any change of 
 plan." 
 
 She was trembling. She seemed not to hear 
 me, and I said the words again. You must 
 promise. You are not to go to the west." 
 
 And then she put out her hands to me. Yes, 
 yes, I understand. I promise. I shall not go
 
 378 MONTLIVET 
 
 west. But, monsieur, do not do not go with 
 me to the shore. Let me go alone. Let us part 
 here." 
 
 I could have envied her the power to tremble. 
 I felt like stone. I had but one arm, but I drew 
 her to me till I felt her heart on mine. "This is 
 not the end. This is not the end. But till you 
 come to me again" And I would have laid 
 my lips on hers. 
 
 But she was out of my grasp. " We we 
 It was a compact. If we If we did that, we 
 could not part. Good-by, monsieur. I beg 
 you not to go with me. God be with you. God 
 be with you, monsieur." 
 
 I followed to the door and held to its casing as 
 I looked after her. She had met Cadillac, and 
 was walking with him. She, whom I had always 
 seen erect, was leaning on his arm.
 
 I FOLLOW MY PATH 
 
 A FULL hour later I went to Cadillac. " I am leav 
 ing," I said. "I am taking Pierre. The Ottawa 
 girl, his wife, says she is going with us. It is foolish, 
 but Pierre, wishes it. He is dough in her hands." 
 
 Cadillac shook my well shoulder. " Go to bed 
 for a day. You are ash color." 
 
 " No, I must be on my way. The time is short 
 enough as it is. Have the Senecas gone ? " 
 
 "No, it will be some hours before they are 
 ready. If you start now, you will be enough in 
 advance to keep out of sight." 
 
 I could not forbear a shrug. "Three hours 
 start to collect an army! Well, it shall serve. 
 And you follow to-morrow ? " 
 
 Cadillac gave a trumpeting laugh. :< Yes, to 
 morrow. I shall take a hundred men and leave 
 a hundred here for guard. I have made arrange 
 ments. Longuant leads the Ottawas, and old 
 Kondiaronk the loyal Hurons. Where shall we 
 meet you ? " 
 
 "I cannot tell. Stop at the Pottawatamie Is 
 lands and Onanguisse will know. Keep watch 
 of Pemaou. He will make trouble if he can."
 
 380 MONTLIVET 
 
 Cadillac looked at the horizon. "Montlivet, 
 I have bad news. Pemaou has gone." 
 
 "Gone! Where?" 
 
 "I don t know. To the Seneca camp, prob 
 ably. His canoes have just left." 
 
 I tapped the ground. I was tired and angry. 
 You should have prevented such a possibility," 
 I let myself say. 
 
 But he kept his temper. " What could I have 
 done?" he asked quietly. "I have no authority 
 in my garrison." 
 
 I regretted my outburst. "You could not 
 have done anything," I hastened. "And if 
 Pemaou has indeed gone to the Senecas, it is 
 good news for me. I am impatient for a meet 
 ing with him that I did not dare have here for 
 fear of entangling myself and losing time. I 
 shall hope for an encounter in the west. And 
 now I am away, monsieur." 
 
 I wished to leave with as little stir as possible, 
 so Pierre took the canoe around the point, and 
 I joined him there. To reach the rendezvous I 
 walked through the old maize field where I had 
 met the English captive. It had been moonlight 
 then. Now it was hot noon, and the waves of 
 light made me faint. I had forgotten breakfast. 
 I cursed myself at the omission, for I needed 
 strength. 
 
 But I was not to leave quite unattended.
 
 I FOLLOW MY PATH 381 
 
 When I reached the canoe, I found Father Car- 
 heil talking to Singing Arrow. I was glad to see 
 him. There was something that propped my 
 pride and courage in his irritable, tender greeting. 
 
 He pressed a vial into my hands. "It is con 
 fection of Jacinth. It has great virtue. Take it 
 with you, my son." 
 
 I knelt. "I would rather take your blessing, 
 father." 
 
 He gave it to me, and his old hands trembled. 
 " Come back, my son. Come back safely. You 
 will return this way?" 
 
 I looked off at the blue, beckoning west. "I 
 do not know, father. I go without ties or re 
 sponsibilities. I am not sure where I shall end. 
 I doubt that I return this way. " 
 
 "But where, my son ? Where do you go ?" 
 
 I pointed, and his mystic glance followed my 
 hand. " Out there in the blue, father, some 
 where. I don t know where. It has beckoned 
 you thus far; can you resist its cry to you to 
 come farther and force its secrets from it?" 
 
 He clutched his rosary, and I knew I had 
 touched one of his temptations. He loved the 
 wilderness as I have never seen it loved. Even 
 his fellow priests and the few soldiers and traders 
 crowded him. He wanted the land alone, 
 alone with his Indians. He would not look at 
 the blue track.
 
 382 MONTLIVET 
 
 "It is the path of ambition, and it is strewn 
 with wrecks. Come back to us here, my son." 
 
 But I would not look away from the west. 
 "Some day I shall come back. Not now. 
 Father, I married Ambition. She lives in the 
 wilderness. I think I shall abide with her the 
 next year." 
 
 He frowned at me. " Where has Madame de 
 Month vet gone?" 
 
 " She has started for her home in England, fa 
 ther." 
 
 He tapped his teeth with his forefinger. 
 "You sent a curious guard with her. Take the 
 advice of an old man who has lived among In 
 dians. It is usually unwise to mix tribes." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "You should have sent a guard of Ottawas 
 with your wife and Starling." 
 
 "They were all Ottawas." 
 
 "No, they were more than half Hurons. I 
 counted." 
 
 I jammed my teeth together and tried to 
 think. I had just said that the west was calling 
 me, that I was untrammeled. Untrammeled! 
 Why, I was enmeshed, choked by conflicting du 
 ties. I put my head back, and breathed hard. 
 
 "Father, are you sure? Cadillac himself saw 
 to it that they were all Ottawas." 
 
 The priest stepped forward and! wiped his hand-
 
 I FOLLOW MY PATH 383 
 
 kerchief across my face. It was wet. " My son, 
 take this more calmly. Cadillac does not know 
 one Indian from another. Does this mean 
 harm?" 
 
 I shook the sweat from my fingers. " I do not 
 know what it means. But I must go west. I 
 must. Hundreds of men depend on me. Fa 
 ther Carheil?" 
 
 Yes, my son." 
 
 "I bound you once on this very spot. May 
 I bind you again ?" 
 
 " With promises ? " 
 
 ; Yes. Will you see Cadillac at once, tell him 
 what you know, and have a company of Ottawas 
 sent in pursuit of Lord Starling ? Will you your 
 self see that it is rightly done ?" 
 
 His foot drummed a tattoo. " I ask no favors 
 of the commandant." 
 
 "Father!" 
 
 "Oh yes, I" 
 
 "Then go at once, I beg you. Hasten." 
 
 He shook his head at me, but he turned and 
 ran. I watched him a moment, then I stepped 
 in the canoe. 
 
 " I will take a paddle, " I told Pierre. " I can 
 do something with my left hand. Singing Arrow 
 must take one, too. " 
 
 It had come to me before in my life to be com 
 pelled to force the apparently impossible out of
 
 384 MONTLIVET 
 
 opportunity. But never had I asked myself to 
 attempt such a task as this. I had only one day 
 the start of Cadillac, and in that time I must 
 collect an army. But if success were within hu 
 man reach I was well armored to secure it, for I 
 carried a desperate heart. 
 
 So if I say we went swiftly, it conveys no mean 
 ing of what we really accomplished. We paddled 
 as long as our arms would obey us, slept spar 
 ingly, and paddled again. Singing Arrow was 
 worth two men. She paddled for us, cooked for 
 us, and packed the bales when our hands blun 
 dered with weariness. She was tireless. 
 
 And watching her I saw something lived before 
 me day by day that I had tried to forget was 
 in the world. There was love between this In 
 dian woman and my peasant Pierre. They had 
 found the real love, the love that is wine and 
 meat. It was very strange. Pierre was quiet, 
 and he was wont to be boisterous, but he looked 
 into the girl s eyes, and I saw that both of them 
 forgot that the hours of work were long. I have 
 not seen this miracle many times, though I have 
 seen many marriages. What had Pierre done 
 that he should find it ? 
 
 Well, the west called me. And if a man whines 
 under his luck, that proves that he deserves all 
 that has happened. 
 
 And so we reached the Pottawatamie Islands.
 
 I FOLLOW MY PATH 385 
 
 We were so cramped and exhausted that we 
 staggered as we tried to walk from the canoe, 
 yet we remained at the islands but an hour. 
 And in that hour I talked to Onanguisse and 
 the old men, and perfected our plans. When we 
 embarked again we had two large canoes with 
 strong-armed Pottawatamies at the paddles. We 
 were on our way to the Malhominis, and I slept 
 most of the distance, for nature was in revolt. 
 Yet through all my heavy slumber droned the 
 voice of Onanguisse, and always he repeated 
 what he had said when we parted. 
 
 "I called her the turtle dove. But at heart 
 she was an eagle. Did you ask her to peck and 
 twitter like a tame robin ? I could have told you 
 that she would fly away. " 
 
 We reached the mouth of the Wild Rice River 
 at evening, and pushed up through the reeds in 
 the darkness. I knew if Pemaou was lying in 
 ambush for me this would be the place for him. 
 But we reached the village safely, so I said to my 
 self that the Huron had grown slow-witted. 
 
 In other times, in times before the broth of life 
 had lost its salt, I should have enjoyed that mo 
 ment of entry into the Malhominis camp. The 
 cry that met me was of relief and welcome, but 
 I ignored all greetings till I had pushed my way 
 to the pole where the dried band of rushes still 
 hung. I tore it away, and hung a silver chain
 
 386 MONTLIVET 
 
 in its place. "Brother!" I said to Outchipouac, 
 and he gave me his calumet in answer. 
 
 And then I had ado to compel a hearing. The 
 Malhominis repented their injustice, and would 
 have overpowered me with rejoicings and flattery, 
 but I made them understand at last that I had 
 but two hours to spend with them, and they qui 
 eted like children before a tutor. My first ques 
 tion was for news of Labarthe and Leclerc, but 
 I learned nothing. Indeed, the Malhominis could 
 tell me nothing of the Seneca camp beyond the 
 fact that it was still there. They had cowered in 
 their village dreading a Seneca attack, and they 
 were feverishly anxious for concerted action. 
 They suggested that I save time by sending mes 
 sengers to the Chippewas and Winnebagoes, 
 while I went myself to the Sac camp. 
 
 This was good advice and I adopted it. I 
 drew maps on bark, gave the messengers my 
 watchword, and instructed them what to say. 
 The rendezvous I had selected was easy to find. 
 Some few miles south of the Seneca camp a small 
 river debouched into La Baye des Puants. We 
 would meet there. Cadillac and the Pottawata- 
 mies would come together from the north; the 
 Malhominis, the Winnebagoes, and the Chippe 
 was would come separately, and I would lead the 
 Sacs under my command. All was agreed upon, 
 and I saw the messengers dispatched. Then I
 
 I FOLLOW MY PATH 387 
 
 took a canoe and eight men, and started on my 
 own journey. It was then past midnight. 
 
 The eight men worked well. By sunrise I was 
 fighting the dogs and the stench in the Sacs vil 
 lage, and by eleven the same morning I was on 
 my way again with eighty braves following. The 
 Sacs were such clumsy people in canoes that I did 
 not dare trust them on the water, so we arranged 
 to make a detour to the west and reach the ren 
 dezvous by land. 
 
 It was a terrible journey. We had to make on 
 foot nearly double the distance that the other 
 tribes would make by canoe, so we gave ourselves 
 no rest. The trail led by morass and fallen timber, 
 and it was the season of stinging gnats and breath 
 less days. The Sacs were always filthy in camp 
 or journeying, and I turned coward at the food 
 I was obliged to eat. But I did not dare leave 
 them and trust them to come alone. They were 
 a fierce, sullen people, unstable as hyenas, but 
 they were terrible in war. I had won some power 
 over them, and they followed me with the eyes 
 of snarling dogs. But they would not have gone 
 a mile without my hand to beckon. 
 
 So through filth and gnats, heat, toil, and lack 
 of food, I followed Ambition.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 THE MEANING OF CONQUEST 
 
 WHEN I stumbled along the bank of the little 
 stream that marked our rendezvous, I was mud- 
 splashed, torn, and insect-poisoned, and I led a 
 brutish set of ruffians. Yet I heard a muffled 
 cheer roar out as I came into view. The Winne- 
 bagoes were in camp and in waiting. 
 
 I forgot ache and weariness. The Winneba- 
 goes were fifty in all, picked men, and I looked 
 them over and exulted. Erect and clean-limbed, 
 they were as dignified and wonderful as a row of 
 fir trees, and physically I felt a sorry object be 
 side them. Yet they hailed me as leader, and 
 placing me on a robe of deerskins carried me 
 into camp. They smoked the pipe of fealty with 
 me, and when I slept that night I knew that my 
 dream castles of the last two years were at last 
 shaping into something I could touch and handle. 
 Their glitter was giving way to masonry. 
 
 The morning brought the Malhominis, the 
 noon the Chippewas. I hoped for the French 
 and the Pottawatamies by night. 
 
 But the night did not bring them, nor the next 
 morning, nor the next day, nor yet the day follow 
 ing.
 
 THE MEANING OF CONQUEST 389 
 
 And in the waiting days I lived in four camps 
 of savages, and it was my duty to cover them with 
 the robe of peace. 
 
 The wolf-eyed Sacs, the stately Winnebagoes, 
 the Chippewas, and Malhominis, they sat like 
 gamecocks, quiet, but alert for a ruffle of one 
 another s plumage. In council they were men; 
 in idleness, children. When I was with them, they 
 talked of war and spoke like senators. When I 
 turned my back they gambled, lied, bragged, and 
 stole. I needed four bodies and uncounted minds. 
 
 And I saw how my union was composed. The 
 tribes would unite and destroy the Senecas, 
 that done, it was probable they would find the 
 game merry, and fall upon one another. 
 
 With every hour of delay they grew harder to 
 control. There was jealousy between the war 
 chiefs. I stepped on thin ice in my walks from 
 lodge to lodge. 
 
 But the third day brought Cadillac. We saw 
 the blur of his canoes far to the north, and when 
 they came within earshot we were ranged to re 
 ceive them. 
 
 A man should know pride in his achievement, 
 else why is striving given him ? I looked 
 over my warriors, rank on rank. Fierce-eyed, 
 muscled like panthers, they were terrible engines 
 of war. And I controlled them! I felt the lift 
 of the heart that strengthens a man s will. That
 
 390 MONTLIVET 
 
 is something rarer than pride ; a flitting vision of 
 the unsounded depths of human power. 
 
 And the canoes that approached made a 
 strange pageant. I could not in a moment rid 
 myself of a rooted custom; I wished the wo 
 man were there to see. French and Indians sat 
 side by side, so that blankets rubbed uniforms. 
 They were packed in close bending ranks, their 
 bodies crouching to the paddles, their eyes upon 
 the shore. There were ferret-sharp black eyes 
 and peasant-dull blue ones, but all were glittering. 
 And the faces, bronze or white, took on the same 
 look, they were strained, arid of all expression 
 but the fever for war. A slow tingle crawled 
 over me, and I saw the crowd sway. A cautious, 
 muffled cry broke from the shore and was an 
 swered from the canoes. It was a hoarse note, 
 for the lust for blood crowds the throat full. 
 
 I looked to see Cadillac riding a surge of tri 
 umph, but when our hands met I was chilled. 
 He showed no gladness. His purple face had 
 lines, and he looked hot and jaded. Had his 
 men failed him ? No, I reviewed them. French, 
 Hurons, and Ottawas, they made a goodly show 
 ing. Onanguisse was there, and his Pottawa- 
 tamies, oiled, feathered, and paint-decked, were 
 beautiful as catamounts. All was well. Cadil 
 lac was not in his first youth, and had abused 
 himself. His look meant fatigue.
 
 THE MEANING OF CONQUEST 391 
 
 "Ottawas, Hurons, Pottawatamies, Malhomi- 
 nis, Chippewas, Sacs, Winnebagoes. " I counted 
 them off to him. "Monsieur de la Mothe-Ca- 
 dillac, it is a sight worthy your eyes. New France 
 has not seen such a gathering since the day when 
 Saint Lusson-planted our standard at the straits 
 and fourteen tribes looked on." 
 
 He nodded heavily. "The Senecas are still 
 in camp?" 
 
 "Yes, monsieur. We can attack to-night." 
 
 But he turned away. " Montlivet, your wife is 
 in the Seneca camp. " 
 
 I looked at him coldly, I think, though I re 
 member that I clutched his shoulder. 
 
 " Monsieur, you mistake. My wife went east." 
 
 He tried to draw me aside, but I resisted him 
 stolidly. I eyed him searchingly, angrily, but he 
 could not look at me. " Listen," he begged, and 
 he spoke very slowly and tapped my arm. Yet 
 I was understanding him perfectly. "Listen, 
 Montlivet, there is no mistake. When Father 
 Carheil told me that there were Hurons in Star 
 ling s escort I sent Ottawas in pursuit. I have 
 heard from them. Starling s party went east 
 till they were out of sight of the garrison. Then 
 they turned west and joined Pemaou. It was by 
 Starling s direction. The Ottawas would have 
 objected, for I had ordered them to travel east, 
 but they were overpowered. It is supposed, since
 
 392 MONTLIVET 
 
 they traveled in this direction, that they went to 
 the Seneca camp. But that may not be true. " 
 
 "It is undoubtedly true," I said. 
 
 Cadillac pushed me out of earshot of the men. 
 "Montlivet, you cannot understand. Listen to 
 me." 
 
 I tried to shake him away. "There is no 
 thing more that you can say. Monsieur, unhand 
 me. My wife left with Starling. She is un 
 doubtedly in the Seneca camp. Pemaou and 
 Starling are in league, and they go to the Senecas 
 because they hope to make terms on behalf of 
 the English with the western tribes. I under 
 stand." 
 
 Cadillac looked at me fully, and I realized 
 dully that his face grew white as he examined 
 mine. "Go away. Go at once," he urged. 
 " Leave things here to me. " 
 
 I nodded and stumbled away. Stretched tar 
 paulins made my tent, and I crawled under them, 
 drew down the folds, and was alone. The noise 
 of the camp muttered around me like a wind. 
 
 And then I lay alone with myself and my be 
 liefs, and fought to know where my feet were set. 
 There was tempest without my tent, but not 
 within. In the valleys where I struggled there 
 was great quiet. And at last I found certainty. 
 
 In an hour I went to find Cadillac. He would 
 not let me speak.
 
 THE MEANING OF CONQUEST 393 
 
 " Montlivet, we will stop this attack if we 
 can hold the Indians." 
 
 "It is not possible to hold the Indians. They 
 are blood drunk. We should have general mas 
 sacre." 
 
 " Then you must leave. You can go with Onan- 
 guisse. He says that if his adopted daughter is 
 with the Senecas he will not join in the attack." 
 
 " No, I shall not go with him. I shall lead the 
 allied force of Indians, monsieur." 
 
 Cadillac looked me over. I saw, with my own 
 face cold, that his was not steady. 
 
 "No victory is worth that," I heard him say, 
 and I listened as if he spoke of another s sorrow. 
 "It is not necessary, Montlivet." 
 
 "It is absolutely necessary. The war chiefs 
 are jealous. Without a leader they will fall on 
 one another and we shall have sickening mas 
 sacre. You cannot lead them, for you do not 
 speak their language." 
 
 "But even granting that" 
 
 I touched his sleeve. " Monsieur, I have been 
 alone. I have thought it out. There is no es 
 cape. I do not know why life should give a man 
 such a thing to do, but it is here. I have told 
 the Indians that I represented the king; that I 
 stood for government, protection. I have called 
 them here in the name of law. It is a new word 
 to them, and I have forced its meaning into their
 
 394 MONTLIVET 
 
 minds. And so they trust me. They trust me in 
 the name of this law I talk about. If I desert 
 them now, they will lapse into savagery of the 
 worst kind. We shall have anarchy. Blood will 
 flow for years. No Frenchman s life will be safe. 
 I have the best men of six tribes here, and they 
 will think themselves deceived and pay us in red 
 coin. I have been alone. I have thought it out. 
 I cannot do wholesale murder to save one life, 
 even if it is my wife whose life is to be forfeit. 
 We must go on." 
 
 Cadillac put out his hand and caught my shoul 
 der. I had reeled against him as I spoke. He 
 removed his hat. 
 
 "I await your plans, Monsieur de Montlivet. 
 My troops are ready." 
 
 When I found Onanguisse he examined me 
 from under drooping lids. Despite his age, he 
 was wont to hold his head like a deer, but now 
 his look was on the ground. He handed me a 
 richly feathered bow and a sheaf of arrows. 
 
 "I cannot use them," he said. "I called her 
 daughter. I gave her a robe in token. It is only 
 a porcupine who turns against his own. A chief 
 remembers." 
 
 I pressed the bow back. "Take it, and save 
 her. I do not know how. You are an old man 
 in knowledge, I am a child. I trust to you to 
 bring her to me."
 
 THE MEANING OF CONQUEST 395 
 
 He looked up at that, and shook his head in sor 
 row when he saw nay face. But he would not take 
 his bow. "One man cannot save her," he said, 
 and he bowed his head again and went away. 
 
 I did not speak. I saw him summon his war 
 riors and reembark. In the general tumult his 
 leaving made little stir. The Pottawatamies 
 were arrogant, called themselves "lords," and ex 
 acted tribute of the other tribes of La Baye. Yet 
 they accomplished this more by diplomacy than 
 warfare. I knew that Onanguisse s desertion was 
 well in tune with his reputation and would not 
 be combated. 
 
 I found Pierre, and told him about the woman. 
 You are to save her. You are to get her away. 
 It is for you to do. You are to think nothing 
 else, work for nothing else. You can do it. I 
 depend on you to do it. You are never to come 
 to me again if you fail." 
 
 But he, too, looked away. " It cannot be done. 
 The Indians will kill her." He turned his head 
 from me, and his voice was thick and grating. 
 
 I raged at him. " I shall give the Indians or 
 ders to spare all women," I declared. 
 
 He nodded his great head. "I will help the 
 master. I will do all I can." He humored me as 
 one hushes an ailing child, but I saw the caution 
 and blankness in his look. As soon as he could 
 he slipped out of my sight.
 
 396 MONTLIVET 
 
 And then I went to work. If I staggered as I 
 made my stumbling, blinded way from war chief 
 to war chief, there was none to know, for blood 
 lust had closed eyes and ears. Yet, though my 
 muscles failed, my brain was clear. 
 
 The kettle-drums snarled and buzzed like lazy 
 hornets. They sounded spiteful rather than 
 wicked, but I knew what their droning stood for, 
 and my body grew cold. In the Ottawa camp 
 the drummers sat beside a post in the centre of a 
 great circle of warriors, and Longuant stood with 
 them in the ring singing a war chant. His body 
 was painted green and he was hung with chains 
 of wampum. I halted. He was one of the 
 sanest, the most admirable, of the war chiefs, 
 and I listened to him. He kept his eyes fixed 
 on the westering sun, and yelped his recitation 
 in a sharp, barking voice. I heard of children 
 dashed to death against trees; of men disem 
 boweled and left to the mercy of dogs and flies. 
 After the recitation of each exploit, he struck his 
 hatchet against the post, and the clamor of the 
 drums doubled. 
 
 I found myself sick as well as faint. I beat the 
 air with my clenched fist, and Cadillac saw me, 
 and begged me to go away alone till I had myself 
 in hand. But I pushed by him. 
 
 "My mind is clear," I said, and I spoke as 
 coldly as a machine. " Clearer than yours, for I
 
 THE MEANING OF CONQUEST 397 
 
 see this as it is. Let me go. I have undertaken 
 this and I shall go through." 
 
 We were ready to march an hour before sunset. 
 The fifty Sacs formed the vanguard, and I was 
 with them. The Winnebagoes followed, then the 
 French troops. The remaining tribes, and the 
 Indians who carried the stores, brought up the 
 rear. Our intention was to march as quietly 
 as possible while daylight lasted, then work our 
 way by dark and starlight till we were near the 
 Seneca camp. We would then drop on the 
 ground, and lie in ambush till it grew light 
 enough to attack. We hoped to surprise the 
 camp. They had fortified themselves, but ap 
 parently had no scouts at work, and from all we 
 could learn they were feasting and drinking in 
 Babylonish security, celebrating the return of 
 their messengers from Michillimackinac. With 
 that exploit in mind it was small wonder that 
 they felt arrogant and unassailable. Now was 
 indeed our time. 
 
 Our ranks were formed, and I looked them 
 over man by man. Each savage carried a bag 
 with ten pounds of maize flour, a light covering, 
 a bow and arrows, or a fusee. The Winneba 
 goes I had put well in the lead, for they were pro 
 tected by great shields of dried buffalo skin. I 
 tried one of the skin shields and found it like 
 iron. It would turn a hatchet.
 
 398 MONTLIVET 
 
 Cadillac s bugler sounded the call and we 
 started. The late sun was unclouded and warm, 
 and the smell of paint and breath and unwashed 
 bodies filled my lungs. The stench was hot and 
 brutish in my nostrils, and it was the smell of war. 
 
 So long as daylight lasted we moved with some 
 regularity in spite of the rough ground. Then, 
 knowing we were drawing nearer the Senecas, 
 we began to slip from tree to tree. The Indians 
 did this like phantoms, and the French troops 
 imitated. Three hundred men went through the 
 forest, and sometimes a twig cracked. There 
 was no other sound. We went for some time. 
 We heard owls hoot around us, and knew they 
 might be watch cries. Still we went on. We 
 went till I felt the ground rise steadily under my 
 groping feet. The Seneca stronghold was on an 
 eminence. I gave the signal to drop where we 
 were and wait for day. 
 
 We melted into the shadows, and lay rigid 
 while the stars looked down. The savage next 
 me slept. His war club lay by his side and I felt 
 of it in the dark. It was made of a deer s horn, 
 shaped like a cutlass; it had a large ball at the 
 end. The ball was heavy and jagged, and 
 would crush a skull. 
 
 There were hundreds of such clubs. In a few 
 hours they would be in use. And the woman 
 was in camp.
 
 THE MEANING OF CONQUEST 399 
 
 My right arm was free from the sling and I 
 dug my hands together. I could feel the blood 
 running in my palms, and I checked myself. If 
 I injured my hands how could I save the woman ? 
 
 But nothing could save the woman. 
 
 I had given commands to spare all whites and 
 to torture no one. But Pierre was right. I was 
 a fool to have pretended, even to myself, that I 
 thought the savages listened. 
 
 A fool can do harm enough, but a cowardly, 
 soft-hearted man is the most dangerous of 
 knaves. I might have killed Pemaou when I 
 threw the spear at him; I might have killed him 
 the night before my wedding in the Pottawatamie 
 camp. I had withheld my hand because it was 
 disagreeable to me to kill. And now the woman s 
 life was to pay the forfeit of my lax softness. I 
 rolled in my agony, and bit the ground till my 
 mouth was full of leaf mould. 
 
 A planet swung from one tree-top to the next. 
 What lay behind it ? She would know soon. But 
 I could not follow her where she was going. I 
 should live. I knew that. When Death is courted 
 he will not strike. I had seen that in battle. 
 
 That first morning when she had come to me 
 with the sunrise, when she had drifted to me, 
 bound and singing, I had called to her to have 
 no fear, that no harm should come to her. And 
 she had trusted me.
 
 400 MONTLIVET 
 
 She had a little hollow in her brown throat 
 where I had watched the breath flutter. I had 
 never touched it. 
 
 I could thank God for her, for one thing. She 
 had refused my kiss. 
 
 I saw the planet again, tipping another tree-top. 
 I understood its remoteness; in my agony I was 
 part of it. What were men, countries, empires! 
 I felt the insignificance of life, of suffering. 
 What did it matter if these Indians died ! Why 
 should we not all die ? I crawled to my knees. 
 I would give the signal to retreat. I would give 
 it now. Let the massacre come. 
 
 But I fell back. I could not. I could not. 
 Three hundred lives for one life. I could spill 
 my own blood for her, but not theirs. 
 
 But as for empire, I had forgotten its mean 
 ing. 
 
 All of these men lying in the shadows had 
 women who were dear. Many of the wives 
 would kill themselves if their husbands died. I 
 had seen an Indian wife do it; she had smiled 
 while she was dying. 
 
 Would the woman think of me at the last ? 
 She would not know that I had failed her. She 
 would not know that I was worse than Starling. 
 
 She was the highest-couraged, the most finely 
 wrought woman that the world knew. Yet two 
 men had failed her.
 
 THE MEANING OF CONQUEST 401 
 
 "Monsieur," she had said, "life has not been 
 so pleasant that I should wish to live." 
 
 It was only a week ago that she she, alive, 
 untouched, my own had walked away from 
 me in the sunshine, leaning on Cadillac s arm. 
 And I had let her go. And I had let her go. 
 
 And I had let her go. I said that over and 
 over, with my mouth dry, and I forgot time. I 
 did not know that minutes were passing, but I 
 looked up, and the stars were dim, and branches 
 and twigs were taking form. Day would be on 
 us soon. 
 
 I raised myself on my elbow and peered. I 
 could see very little, but I could hear the strange 
 rhythmic rustle that I call the breathing of the for 
 est. And with it mingled the breathing of three 
 hundred warriors. They carried clubs, arrows, 
 muskets. I was to give them the signal for war. 
 
 I tried to rise. I was up on my knees. I fell 
 back. I tried again. My muscles did not obey. 
 I saw the war club of the Indian beside me. My 
 hands stole out to it. A blow on my own head 
 would end matters. My hands closed on the 
 handle of the club. 
 
 Then the savage next me stirred. That 
 roused me. The insanity was over, and sweat 
 rained from me at realization of my weakness, 
 the weakness that always traps a man unsure of 
 his values, his judgment. When men say that a
 
 402 MONTLIVET 
 
 man s life is not his own to take, I am not sure. 
 But that had nothing to do with me now. I was 
 not a man in the sense of having a man s free 
 volition. When I had given up human claims 
 for myself, I had ceased to exist as an independent 
 agent. It was only by knowing that I was a tool 
 that I could keep myself alive. 
 
 And so I sat upon my knees and whispered to the 
 Indians about me. They whispered in turn, and 
 soon three hundred men were waked and ready. 
 
 Yet the forest scarcely rustled. 
 
 I motioned, and the line started. We crept 
 some twenty paces from tree to tree. Then 
 ahead of us I saw an opening. I could distin 
 guish the outlines of a rough redoubt. 
 
 I stepped in front and stopped a moment. It 
 had grown light enough for me to see the faces of 
 the Sac warriors. Dirt-crusted , red-eyed, wolfish, 
 they awaited my signal. 
 
 I raised my sword. "Ready!" I called. 
 
 An inferno of yells arose. We ran at the top of 
 our speed. We charged the stake-built redoubt 
 with knives in hands. Mingled with our war cry 
 I heard the screams of the awakening camp. 
 
 I reached the palings. They were of bass 
 wood, roughly split and tough. I could not scale 
 them with my lame shoulder. I seized a hatchet 
 from an Indian, struck the stakes, wrenched one 
 free, and climbed through the hole.
 
 THE MEANING OF CONQUEST 403 
 
 The camp was in an uproar. A few Sacs had 
 scaled the redoubt ahead of me, and one of them 
 was grappling with a Seneca just in my path. I 
 dodged them and ran on. Behind me I heard 
 the terrible roar of the blood-hungry army. 
 
 I fought my way on. Warriors and slaves 
 rose before me and screamed at my knife, and at 
 something that was in my face. I did not touch 
 them. I had to find the woman. She might be 
 hiding in one of the huts. But there were many 
 bark huts, and all alike. I ran on. 
 
 The air was thickening with powder smoke, 
 and the taste of blood was in my throat. A 
 hatchet whistled by me and cut the cloth from 
 my shoulder. I saw the Seneca who threw the 
 hatchet, but I would not stop. Corpses were in 
 my way. Twice I slipped in blood and went to 
 my knees. 
 
 I must search each lodge, each group. I had 
 seen nothing that looked like a woman. 
 
 An Indian grappled with me, and I slashed at 
 him till he was helpless. I was covered with 
 blood that was not my own. I let him drop and 
 stumbled on. 
 
 I could not find the woman. I had not seen 
 Starling nor Pierre nor Labarthe nor Leclerc. 
 
 And over all the noise of tearing flesh and the 
 screams of dying men came the sound of singing, 
 of constant, exultant singing, the singing of
 
 404 MONTLIVET 
 
 victors binding their captives ; the death songs of 
 wounded preparing to die. 
 
 I saw two bodies lying together as if the same 
 arrow had cleft them. Their hands sprawled 
 toward me, red and beckoning. They were mu 
 tilated, but I knew their clothes. They were 
 Leclerc and Labarthe. Leclerc was hanging on 
 Labarthe as he had leaned in life. 
 
 I had brought these men to the wilderness. 
 And Simon was dead, too. I went on. 
 
 I saw a Seneca, stripped and running blood, 
 crouch to a white man on the ground and lift his 
 knife to take the scalp. I sprang upon him, but 
 he dashed my knife away, found his feet, and 
 pressed at me. I dodged his hatchet, and catch 
 ing up a skin shield from the ground turned on 
 him. I was taller than he, and I smashed the 
 shield down on his head so that he dropped. I 
 pounded him till he was beyond doing harm to 
 any one, then I took his knife and hatchet, tossed 
 him aside, and turned to the white man. 
 
 It was Starling, and there was life in him, for 
 he opened his eyes. 
 
 . I took my flask and forced brandy between his 
 teeth. He recognized me but could not speak. 
 A great spear had torn through his chest. I 
 started to pull it out, but when I looked farther 
 and saw what a hatchet had done I checked my 
 self.
 
 THE MEANING OF CONQUEST 405 
 
 His eyes were on mine and he tried to speak. 
 It was more than I could look at, his effort to 
 hold life in his torn body and tell me something. 
 I eased his head and gave him more brandy. 
 
 And then he found strength to try to push me 
 away. "Go! Go! The woman!" I made the 
 words out of the writhing of his lips. 
 
 I leaned over him. " Where ? Where is she ? 
 Where?" 
 
 He tried many times before he made a sound 
 that I could catch, and his strength ebbed. I 
 tried more brandy, but he was past reviving. I 
 strained to hear, till my agony matched his. 
 
 I thought I caught a word. "Woods!" I 
 cried. "Is she in the woods?" 
 
 ;< Yes." He suddenly spoke clearly. "Go." 
 And he fell back in my arms. 
 
 I thought that he died with that word, but I 
 held him a moment longer to make sure. It did 
 not matter now that I hated him. As to what 
 he had brought on me, I could not visit my de 
 spair on him for that. As well rage at the forces 
 that made him. Life had given him a little soul 
 in a compelling body. The world believed the 
 body, and expected of the man what he could not 
 reach. I looked at his dead face and trembled 
 before the mystery of inheritance. 
 
 But he was not dead. He opened his eyes to 
 mine, quivered, and spoke, and his voice was clear.
 
 406 MONTLIVET 
 
 "I would have followed her into the woods but 
 they bound me. I was not a coward that time. 
 I would have followed her." 
 
 And then the end came to him in a way that I 
 could not mistake, for with the last struggle he 
 cried to the woman. 
 
 I laid him down. While I had held him I had 
 known that Frenchmen were fighting around me, 
 and my neck was slimy with warm blood, for 
 an arrow had nicked my ear. But the battle had 
 swayed on to the north of the camp, and only 
 dead and dying were left in sight. I looked at 
 Starling. I could not carry him. I took off my 
 coat, covered the body, and went on. 
 
 The woman had gone to the woods. She had 
 gone to the woods. 
 
 But woods lay on every side. 
 
 As I ran through the camp toward the north 
 I saw a woman ahead of me. She had a broad, 
 fat figure, and I knew she was an Indian. But 
 she was a woman and the first that I had seen. 
 I caught her and jerked her around to face me. 
 
 "The woman? The white woman? Where 
 is she?" I used the Illinois speech. 
 
 The woman was a Miami slave and appar 
 ently unhurt. But as I stood over her a line of 
 foam bubbled out of her blue lips. Her eyes 
 were meaningless. I had frightened her into 
 catalepsy, and I ground my teeth at my ill luck,
 
 THE MEANING OF CONQUEST 407 
 
 for she could have told me something of the wo 
 man. I took my brandy flask and tried to pry 
 her teeth apart. 
 
 Both of my hands were busy with her when 
 Pierre s bellow rose from behind me. "Master! 
 Jump! Jump!" In the same instant I heard 
 breathing close upon me. 
 
 I jumped. As I did it I heard the crash of a 
 hatchet through bone, and the pounding of a great 
 body heaving down upon its knees. I turned. 
 
 Pemaou s hatchet was in Pierre s brain, and 
 my giant, my man who had lived with me, was 
 crumpled down on hands and knees, looking at 
 me and dying. 
 
 I called out like a mad thing, and insanity gave 
 me power. I tore the red hatchet from Pemaou s 
 hands and pinioned him. My fingers dug into 
 his throat, and I threw him to the ground. He 
 bared his wolf s teeth and began his death song. 
 
 But I raved at him, and choked him to silence. 
 
 "You are not to die now ! " I shouted at his glaz 
 ing eyes. You shall live. I shall torture you. 
 You shall live to be tortured." 
 
 I carried rope around my waist, and I took it 
 and bound him. How I did it is not clear, for I 
 had a weak shoulder and he was muscular. But 
 now he seemed palsied and I a giant. It was 
 done. I bound him till he was rigid and helpless. 
 
 And then I fell to my knees beside Pierre. He
 
 408 MONTLIVET 
 
 was dead. I had lost even the parting from him. 
 My giant was dead. He had taken the blow 
 meant for me. 
 
 Pierre was dead, and Simon and Labarthe and 
 Leclerc. I had brought them to the wilderness 
 because I believed in a western empire for France. 
 I left Pierre and went on. 
 
 But I had not gone far when a cry rose behind 
 me. It was louder than the calls of the dying. It 
 was the wail of an Indian woman for her dead. I 
 ran back. Singing Arrow lay stretched on Pierre s 
 body. 
 
 I looked at her. I did not ask myself how she 
 came there, though I had thought her safe in the 
 Malhominis village. So she had loved the man 
 enough to follow secretly. I left her with him 
 and went on. 
 
 I stepped over men who were mangled and 
 scalped. Some of them were not dead, and they 
 clutched at me. But I went on my way. 
 
 Indians and troops were gathered at the north 
 of the camp. The warfare was over. Corpses 
 were stacked like logs, and the savages were 
 binding their captives and chanting of their vic 
 tories. The French stood together, leaning on 
 their muskets. I saw Cadillac unhurt, and went 
 to him. 
 
 "Is the bugler alive? Have him sound the 
 call."
 
 THE MEANING OF CONQUEST 409 
 
 The commandant turned at sound of my voice. 
 He was elated and would have embraced me, 
 but seeing my face his mood altered. He gave 
 the order. 
 
 The bugle restored quiet, and I raised my 
 sword for attention. I asked each tribe in turn 
 if they had seen a white woman. Then I asked 
 the French. I gained only a storm of negatives. 
 
 I went on with the orders to the tribes. All 
 captives were to be treated kindly and their 
 wounds dressed. This was because they were to 
 be adopted, and it was prudent to keep them in 
 good condition. The argument might restrain 
 the savages. I was not sure. 
 
 And all the time that I was speaking I won 
 dered if I looked and talked as other men did. 
 Would the savages obey me as they had done 
 when I was a live, breathing force, full of ardor 
 and belief? They seemed to see no difference. 
 I finished my talk to them and turned to Cadillac. 
 You do not need me now. You will be oc 
 cupied caring for the wounded and burying the 
 dead. The Indians will not attempt torture 
 to-day. I am going to the woods." 
 
 "To the woods?" 
 
 "The woman is in the woods. She must have 
 gone at the first alarm. I cannot find her here." 
 
 "Ask the captives. They will know." 
 
 "It is useless to ask them. They will not
 
 410 MONTLIVET 
 
 speak now. It is a code. I am going to the 
 woods. Send what soldiers you can to search 
 with me." 
 
 "Shall I send Indians with you, too?" 
 
 "Not now. They are useless now. They 
 could trail nothing. Let me go." 
 
 He followed like a father. "You will come 
 back?" 
 
 Yes, I will come back." 
 
 But I had three things to do before I was free 
 to go to the woods. To go to the woods where 
 I would find the woman. 
 
 I searched for the Miami slave woman. She 
 was dead. That cut my last hope of news. 
 
 I saw that Pemaou was still well bound, and I 
 had him carried into a hut to await my orders. 
 
 I went to Pierre s body. Singing Arrow still 
 wailed beside it, and cried out that it should not 
 be moved. I told her the soldiers would obey 
 her orders, and carry it where she wished. 
 
 But there was a fourth matter. I spoke to 
 Dubisson, and my tongue was furry and cold. 
 
 " See that watch is kept on the bags of scalps 
 for European hair." 
 
 Then I went to the woods.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 THE UNDESERVED 
 
 THERE were birds in the woods, and soft breezes. 
 Squirrels chattered at me, and I saw flowers. 
 And sometimes I saw blood on trampled moss 
 where fugitives had been before. 
 
 I called, and fired my arquebus. I w r histled, 
 for that sound carried far. Since that day the 
 sound of a whistle is terrible to me. It means 
 despair. 
 
 Soldiers, grave-faced, respectful, followed me. 
 They were faint for food, and sore and sick from 
 warfare, but they came with me without protest. 
 They gave me the deference we show a mourner 
 in a house of death. I turned to them in a rage. 
 
 " Make more noise. Laugh. Talk. Be nat 
 ural. I command you. " 
 
 We divided the woods among us, like game- 
 beaters in a thicket, and went over the ground 
 foot by foot. We found nothing. The birds 
 sang and the sun went higher. Though the 
 woods were pure and clean I could smell blood 
 everywhere. In time a man dropped from ex 
 haustion. At that I gave the word to go back to 
 camp.
 
 412 MONTLIVET 
 
 The camp itself was less terrible than the mem 
 ories that had been with me as I walked through 
 the unsullied woods. The wounded were cared 
 for and the dead buried. The Indians were 
 gathered around their separate fires, chanting, 
 feeding, bragging, and sleeping. The French 
 had made a camp at one side, and they, too, were 
 seeking comfort through food and sleep. Life 
 was progressing as if the mutilated dead had 
 never been. 
 
 We had succeeded, Cadillac assured me. All 
 the Senecas were dead or captured and our total 
 loss, French and savage, was only seventy-five 
 men. We had but few wounded, and the sur 
 geon said they would recover. 
 
 I nodded, took food, and went alone to eat. I 
 sat there a long time. Cadillac came toward me 
 once as if to speak, but looked at me and turned 
 away. 
 
 At last I had made up my mind, and I went to 
 the hut where I had left Pemaou. It had taken 
 time to fight down my longing for even combat 
 with him, but I knew that I must not risk that, 
 for I needed to keep my life for a time. So I 
 would try for speech with him first, and then he 
 should die. And since he must die helpless, 
 he must die as painlessly as possible. Physical 
 revenge had become abominable to me. It was 
 inadequate.
 
 THE UNDESERVED 413 
 
 I entered the hut. Pemaou s figure lay, face 
 downward, on the floor. It had a rigidity that 
 did not come from the thongs that bound it. I 
 turned it over. The Indian s throat was cut. 
 Life had flowed out of the red, horrible opening. 
 
 I think that I cursed at the dead man. Corpse 
 that he was, he had tricked me again, for I had 
 hoped, against reason, to force information from 
 him. Death had not dignified his wolfish face. 
 He had died, as he had lived, a snarling animal, 
 whose sagacity was that of the brute. And I had 
 lost with him this time, as I had lost before, by 
 taking thought, and so losing time. An animal 
 does not hesitate, and he is a fool who deliberates 
 in dealing with him. I tasted desolation as I 
 stood there. 
 
 A moccasin stepped behind me. "I killed 
 him," said Singing Arrow s voice. 
 
 I turned. She was terrible to look at. Life 
 had given this savage woman strength of will 
 and soul without training to balance it. She 
 was Nemesis incarnate. Yet blood-stained and 
 tragic as was her face, her words were calm. 
 
 " He killed my man." 
 
 What was there to say ? It was only her look 
 that showed she had been through tempests; in 
 mind she seemed as numbed as I. I took her by 
 the arm and led her outside. I turned away from 
 the blood-soaked camp, and took her to the beach
 
 414 MONTLIVET 
 
 where the water was yellow- white and rippled on 
 the sand. I motioned her to wash away the 
 blood stains on her face and arms. Then I spoke. 
 
 "Singing Arrow, do you intend to kill your 
 self and follow Pierre ? " 
 
 She drew her blanket high and folded her 
 arms. ;< Yes, if he calls me. When I dream of 
 him twice I shall know that he is crying for me 
 and cannot rest, so I shall go after him. I have 
 dreamed once already, after I killed the Huron. 
 When I dream once more I can go." 
 
 I touched her arm. "Look at me. Singing 
 Arrow, Pierre is not calling you to follow him. 
 He is calling you to pick up his work where he 
 had to drop it. He died trying to save me. He 
 wants you to help me now. My wife is in the 
 woods. You are to help me find her. Will you 
 help me, Singing Arrow ?" 
 
 She shook her head. As she looked at me, 
 scornful and sorrowful and absolutely unmoved, 
 she was one of the most beautiful women I had 
 ever seen. I knew this remotely, as an unblest 
 ghost might know a warmth he could not feel. 
 
 You do not need me. If your whisper can 
 not reach the white woman she would not hear 
 my shouts. I must go with my man." 
 
 "Singing Arrow, the Great Spirit is not ready 
 for you. When he is ready he will send. You 
 must wait for him to send."
 
 THE UNDESERVED 415 
 
 She did not shift her look from me. "Your 
 Great Spirit is strange. He tells you that you 
 are brave men and good when you take other 
 lives, but he will not let you take your own. 
 Why should you have power over other men s 
 bodies if your own does not belong to you ? Your 
 Great Spirit may be right for you white men, 
 but for me he speaks like a child. When my 
 man calls me I shall go. * She dropped her 
 eyes, wrapped her blanket closer, and went 
 away. I did not follow her. She had as sound 
 a right to her belief as I to mine. 
 
 And what was my belief ? 
 
 The sun was at the horizon, and I went to 
 Cadillac. You hold council to-morrow?" 
 
 "Yes, to-morrow morning." 
 
 " I shall be here." 
 
 "But where are you going now ?" 
 
 "To the woods." 
 
 Cadillac took me by the arm. " Montlivet, be 
 sane!" 
 
 But I think that as he looked at me he saw that 
 I was sane. "I shall be with you in the morn 
 ing," I promised. And I would have no further 
 words. 
 
 All that night in the woods, both waking and 
 dreaming, the thought of the woman was like 
 a presence near me. I slept some, dropping 
 against trees, then roused and stumbled on. I
 
 416 MONTLIVET 
 
 do not know that I consciously searched for her, 
 but I went on and on to meet her. It seemed 
 that I should always do that while I lived, 
 should always push my way forward, feeling that 
 beyond the next turn she stood beckoning. 
 
 The stars rose and set. There were multitudes 
 of them and very bright. If man could only 
 have his orbit fixed and follow it as they did ; be 
 compelled to follow it by a governing power! 
 The terrible cruelty of a God who throws voli 
 tion into a man s hands without giving him under 
 standing to handle it came to me for the first 
 time. 
 
 When day arrived I ate a portion of meal and 
 meat, and made my way back. It was a long 
 trip, for I had wandered far, and when I reached 
 the camp the sun was three hours high. A large 
 tent had been made of skins and tarpaulins, and 
 French and savages were gathered there and wait 
 ing. I was late. The calumet was already pass 
 ing as I went in. 
 
 I halted a moment at the entrance. There 
 was no cheer of welcome at sight of me. Instead 
 there was a hush, the hush of suspended 
 breathing. In two days these savages had come 
 to draw aside from me for what was in my look. 
 " His face is the face of one dead," Outchipouac 
 had said. I knew that I had grown to seem 
 abnormal, alien. I tried to form my expression
 
 THE UNDESERVED 417 
 
 to better lines, but it was out of my power. I 
 took my place as interpreter, and the long con 
 clave opened. 
 
 The hours of droning speeches went on and on. 
 Each tribe presented its claims, and metaphor 
 shouldered metaphor. It sounded trivial as the 
 bragging of blue-jays, but I interpreted carefully 
 and kept the different headings in mind. Then 
 I asked Cadillac s permission, and took it on my 
 self to answer. 
 
 Sometimes the Power that rules us, and that 
 shoves us here and there to play our parts in the 
 game, seems to me nothing but a cold-eyed justice, 
 remote, indifferent, impartially judicial. So I 
 felt now. In looking at the issue I saw that 
 meaning and vitality had gone from my spirit, 
 but I had kept equity. I parceled the spoil 
 among the tribes, and did it without doubt of my 
 judgment or care for its acceptance. I remem 
 bered Outchipouac s plea for his people, and 
 found it just. The Malhominis had sent the 
 largest force in proportion to the strength of their 
 tribe, and their position on the bay was strategi 
 cal. So I gave them their choice of a third of the 
 captives. To the remaining tribes I gave the 
 rest of the captives and the confiscated weapons. 
 Then I passed the calumet among them. 
 
 I had spoken coldly, as an onlooker. Per 
 haps my air of detachment gave me authority.
 
 418 MONTLIVET 
 
 The chiefs smoked the calumet and ratified my 
 words. That part of the council was over. 
 
 And then to the future. Cadillac rose. His 
 eloquence painted the prospect till it shimmered 
 like a dream landscape, rose-tinted, iridescent, 
 with sparkling vistas full of music and bugle 
 calls and the tramp of marching men with the 
 sun in their faces. We, French and Indians, were 
 a united people. Our young men were brave 
 and full of vigor. We should sweep all before 
 us. We should crush the Iroquois and drive the 
 English far away over seas. We should go now 
 to Michillimackinac and march from there to 
 conquest and empire. All the bubble dreams 
 of sovereignty, from Nineveh on, glittered in his 
 words. I translated faithfully. 
 
 Outchipouac answered. I had somehow won 
 his spirit, which was brave and vigorous. Per 
 haps he repented his distrust of me. My silver 
 chain was on his neck, and he fingered it. He 
 said that where I led the Malhominis would 
 follow. His wild imagery swept like the torrent 
 of an epic. The man was warrior, dreamer, 
 fatalist. He called on the chiefs of the tribes 
 to witness what I was, what I had done. Water 
 could not drown me, arrows could not harm me. 
 I wore the French garb and my face was white, 
 but I was something more universal than any 
 race. I spoke all tongues. I was like the air
 
 THE UNDESERVED 419 
 
 which belonged to French and Indian alike. I 
 was a manitou ; I had been sent to lead the Indians 
 back to the supremacy that they had almost lost. 
 
 I could believe him as I listened. I did not 
 remember that he spoke of me. He was talking 
 of some great principle, some crystallization of 
 the forces of the woods in man s shape. The 
 woods that had nurtured the Indian should pro 
 tect him. At last, out from the woods had come 
 this spirit, this spirit that was their voice. He 
 did not talk to me, he talked to the skies and the 
 clouds and the forces that dwelt in them. It was 
 the call of a savage king to the soul of the wild 
 earth that had cradled him. 
 
 So swept away was I that I could not have 
 translated. But it was not necessary. He had 
 spoken in Algonquin, which all but the French 
 and Hurons understood. The war chiefs rose. 
 It is strange. An Indian may scalp and torture, 
 yet have at heart much of the seer and poet. The 
 chiefs came forward and laid their bows and 
 quivers full of arrows at my feet. 
 
 For a moment Outchipouac s speech had 
 warmed me as I thought I might not be warm 
 again. But when I saw the chiefs advancing I 
 became stone. 
 
 " I cannot lead you," I said in Algonquin, and 
 I knew my voice was blank. "Outchipouac is 
 wrong. I am no manitou, but a man so weak he
 
 420 MONTLIVET 
 
 does not know the truth even for himself. How 
 can he lead others ? When I brought you here 
 the sun shone brightly, and I thought I saw the 
 way ahead. Now I am in darkness and mist. 
 Go. Leave me. Find a leader whose sight is 
 not clouded." I turned my back and stood with 
 my head down. 
 
 A murmur rose. I had broken the illusion. 
 We had all been riding the clouds of fancy, and I 
 had dashed us to earth again. The chiefs had 
 come to me with their hands out, and I had 
 thrown water in their faces. They had reason 
 for their anger. Cadillac saw the pantomime 
 and lumbered from his seat. He seized my arm. 
 
 " Montlivet, you are insane ! You are insane ! " 
 
 I pointed him to the woods. "Monsieur, I 
 have dropped my sword. I shall go into the 
 forest for a time." 
 
 He shook me as if I were in a torpor. ;< Your 
 wife" 
 
 "I shall search for her. I am going out now 
 with Indian trailers. I shall not leave this 
 country till all hope is past, then I shall go 
 west." 
 
 For a moment suspicion clutched him. " Oh, 
 you would form your union without me! You 
 are planning a dictatorship." 
 
 I took him by the arm and begged him to 
 understand. "I have dropped my sword," I
 
 THE UNDESERVED 421 
 
 reiterated. " I am going on alone. I have skins 
 and provisions cached at Sturgeon Cove 
 enough for barter. I am not insane. I shall go 
 prudently. There are lands and peoples to be 
 explored in the west." 
 
 The clamor grew. Dubisson and others of 
 the French came nearer. 
 
 "Speak to the chiefs now. Speak to them 
 now," they begged. ; You can save the situa 
 tion yet." 
 
 I w^atched the Indians. "They are departing 
 peacefully." 
 
 "But they are departing!" 
 
 I looked at Cadillac. "And why not?" 
 
 He drew his sword. " Montlivet, have you 
 turned priest or coward ? Do you dare to try 
 and tell me that war is wrong ?" 
 
 I looked at him, and left my own sword un 
 touched. " I do not know what I believe. I am 
 going back in the woods. Perhaps I shall learn. 
 But now we have done all that we set out to do. 
 We have destroyed the Seneca war party. We 
 shall be safe from the Iroquois for some time." 
 
 "But we are just ready to go on. Our men 
 are ready." 
 
 His words seemed meaningless. "Ready! 
 Are intoxicated men ready? We have drunk 
 blood. Now we are drunk with words. I will 
 not"
 
 MONTLIVET 
 
 A roar outside cut my words short. "The wo 
 man! The woman!" I heard the cry in sev 
 eral languages at once, but 1 could not compre 
 hend it. I saw the crowd rise and surge toward 
 me, making for the entrance of the tent. I turned 
 and ran with them. Yet my mind was numb. 
 
 We reached the outside. I was in advance. 
 A great canoe was at the shore and Onanguisse 
 was directing his oarsmen. In the bow of the 
 canoe sat the woman. 
 
 I reached her first; I caught her from the 
 canoe. Yes, she was alive; she was unhurt. 
 Her hands were warm. I heard her breathe. I 
 dropped on my knees at her feet. 
 
 And then she bent over me and whispered, 
 "Monsieur, monsieur, you are unhurt!" Her 
 voice had all its old inflections, and I rose and 
 looked at her in wonder. Yes, she was alive. 
 She was grave-eyed and haggard, but she was 
 alive. The hands that I held were warm and 
 trembling, though my own were cold and leaden 
 as my palsied tongue. She was dressed in skins, 
 and I could see the brown hollow in her throat. 
 I could not speak. I laid my lips upon her hand 
 and trembled. 
 
 French and savages pressed around us in a 
 gaping, silent ring. Cadillac had given us the 
 moment together, but he edged nearer, bewil 
 dered by my silence.
 
 THE UNDESERVED 423 
 
 " Madame, we welcome you," he cried. : Your 
 husband has not been like himself since he heard 
 of your danger. Give him time to recover. We 
 have been a camp of mourning for you. Tell us 
 of your escape." 
 
 And then I spoke. I drew her hand through 
 my arm and turned her to face the crowd. " They 
 are your friends, madame," I said, as if it were 
 the conclusion of a long talk between us. " Thank 
 them, and tell them of your escape." 
 
 But she halted and turned again to me. She 
 looked up with her face close to mine, and for the 
 first time she met my eyes fully. We stood so 
 a moment, and as she stood she flushed under 
 what was in my look; a wave of deepening pink 
 crept slowly up through her brown pallor, but she 
 did not look away. I felt my face harden to iron. 
 It was I who turned from her, and the faces 
 before me swam in red. Up to that time I had 
 grasped only the fact that she was alive, that she 
 stood there, warm, beautiful, unscathed, that I 
 could see her, touch her, hear the strange rise and 
 fall of her voice. But with the clinging of her 
 glance to mine I remembered more, and sweat 
 poured out on my forehead. She was my wife. 
 I had forfeited the right to touch her hand. 
 
 The French began to murmur questions and 
 she turned back toward them. She stood close 
 by my side with her hand in mine, and looked
 
 424 MONTLIVET 
 
 into the faces, French and savage, that hemmed 
 her round. I think she saw tears in some eyes, 
 for her voice suddenly faltered. She made a ges 
 ture of courtesy and greeting. 
 
 "I escaped days ago when we were traveling/* 
 she said in her slow-moving French, that all 
 around might hear. "I made my way to the 
 Pottawatamie Islands. Onanguisse had called 
 me daughter, and I knew that if I could find his 
 people I was safe." 
 
 The crowd breathed together in one exclama 
 tion. ; You have not been in this camp at all ?" 
 
 I felt her draw closer to me. "No, I have 
 not been in this camp. You thought that I 
 was here?" Her grasp on my hand tightened. 
 "Then this is the Seneca camp. The battle is 
 over," she said under her breath, and she turned 
 to me. Her eyes were brave, but I knew from 
 her trembling lips that she understood. "Where 
 is my cousin ?" 
 
 I took both her hands in mine. "He died in 
 my arms. He died trying to send me to you. 
 He forgot self. It was the death of a brave man, 
 madame." 
 
 She stood and looked at me. She had forgot 
 ten the men around her. " Monsieur," she said, 
 and this time her eyes were soft with tears, "my 
 cousin was not so bad as he seemed. He could 
 not help being what he was."
 
 THE UNDESERVED 425 
 
 "I understand." 
 
 "Monsieur, you conquered the Senecas?" 
 
 Yes. We will forget it, madame." 
 
 She looked over the heads of the lines of sol 
 diers and grew white to the lips. I knew that 
 she saw rows of scalps, and I could not save her 
 from it. Yet I implored. 
 
 "Do not think of it. It is all over, madame." 
 
 Her eyes came back to me. "And Pierre? 
 Is Pierre safe?" 
 
 " Madame, he He died saving me." 
 
 Her hands grasped me harder. "And La- 
 barthe?" 
 
 "I am all that is left, madame." 
 
 Still she held to me. "Where is Singing 
 Arrow?" 
 
 I looked at Cadillac. He shook his head. 
 "They found the Indian woman this morning,", 
 he said. "She was dead beside her husband. 
 Do not grieve for her. Her face is more than 
 happy; it is triumphant. My men called me to 
 look. Will you see her now, madame?" 
 
 But she could not answer. The hands that 
 held mine began to chill, and I saw the brown 
 throat quiver. I turned to Cadillac. "I have 
 no tent. May I take madame to yours ? " 
 
 He placed all that he had at her service. He 
 was moved, for he did it with scant phrase. 
 
 "But one moment," he begged. "Montlivet,
 
 426 MONTLIVET 
 
 one word with your wife first. Madame, I beg 
 you to listen. Will you look around you here ? " 
 
 She stopped. "I have looked, monsieur." 
 
 "Madame, you see those Indians. They are 
 war chiefs and picked braves. The brawn and 
 brain of six tribes are collected here before you. 
 Do you know what that means ?" 
 
 I saw her look at him gravely. "I should 
 understand. I have lived in Indian camps, 
 monsieur." 
 
 He looked back at her with sudden admira 
 tion that crowded the calculation out of his eyes. 
 "Madame!" he exclaimed. "We know your 
 spirit and knowledge; we wish that you could 
 teach us some new way to show you homage. 
 But do you understand your husband s power? 
 You have never seen him in the field. Look at 
 these war chiefs. They are arrogant and un 
 tamed, but they follow your husband like parish- 
 school children. It is marvelous, madame." 
 
 She lifted her long deer s throat, and I felt her 
 thrill. " Monsieur, I think that not even you can 
 know half what I do of my husband s strength 
 and power." 
 
 Her words were knives. I would have drawn 
 her away, but Cadillac was before me. " Wait, 
 Montlivet, wait ! This is my time. I have more 
 to say. Then, madame, to the point. These 
 chiefs that you see are leaving. They would
 
 THE UNDESERVED 427 
 
 have been gone now if you had not come. They 
 are leaving us because your husband said he 
 would not lead them further. Talk to him. I 
 can hold the tribes here a few hours longer. If 
 he comes back to sanity by night, there will still 
 be time for him to undo his folly. Talk to him, 
 madame." 
 
 Again I tried to interrupt, but the pressure of 
 her hand begged me to be silent. "What would 
 you have me say to my husband ? " she asked 
 Cadillac, and she stood close to me with her head 
 high. 
 
 He drove his fists together. "I would have 
 you bring him to reason," he groaned. "For 
 three days he has lived in a trance. He planned 
 the attack, and led it without a quiver, but since 
 then he has tried to wash his hands of us and of 
 the whole affair. It is a crucial time, and he 
 is acting like a madman. His anxiety about 
 you has unbalanced him. Bring him to reason, 
 madame." 
 
 I saw her steal a glance at me as a girl might at 
 her lover, and there was a strange, fierce pride in 
 her look. She bowed to Cadillac. "I am glad 
 you told me this, monsieur." Then she turned 
 to me. "Shall we go?" 
 
 But I looked over her head at the comman 
 dant. "It will be useless to keep the tribes in 
 waiting," I warned.
 
 428 MONTLIVET 
 
 I went to Onanguisse, the woman on my arm. 
 " My heart is at your feet," I said to him. " My 
 blood belongs to you, and my sword! " 
 
 He looked at the woman and at me, and he 
 spoke thoughtfully. " When I found her in my 
 lodge we had no speech in common, but I under 
 stood. I brought her to you. Now keep what 
 you have. The best fisherman may let a fish slip 
 once from his net by accident, but his wits are fat 
 if he lets it go a second time." 
 
 I knew he was troubled. He saw no posses 
 sion in my face, and he thought me weak. 
 
 And then I took the woman to Cadillac s tent.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 I TELL THE WOMAN 
 
 CADILLAC S tent held a couch of brush covered 
 with skins, and I led the woman to it and bade 
 her sit. Then I moved away and stood by the 
 rough table. 
 
 "Madame," I said, "I have something that I 
 must tell you. I" 
 
 She rose from the couch and came toward me. 
 "Will you wait?" she interrupted. "May I 
 speak first?" She stood beside me, and I saw 
 how thin her hand was as it rested on the table. 
 She had been through danger, starvation. I 
 found myself shaking. 
 
 "You went alone through the woods!" I cried, 
 and my voice was hoarse, so that I had to stop 
 and control it. " Did you suffer ? You must 
 have suffered, madame?" 
 
 She smiled up at me. "Monsieur, do not 
 grieve. It is all over. And the greatest suffer 
 ing was in my mind. I feared that you would 
 think I disobeyed you." 
 
 I clenched my hands. "Madame, you must 
 not say such things to me." 
 
 But she touched her fingers to mine. "Mon-
 
 430 MONTLIVET 
 
 sieur, I beg you. Hear me out before you speak. 
 As to my coming here, I promised you that I 
 would not turn westward, but I could not help 
 it." 
 
 "I know, madame." 
 
 "My cousin --he was he was a spy, after 
 all. He deceived us both. He was carrying 
 peace belts. But but I am sure that he had 
 moments of saying to himself that he would re 
 fuse to act the spy. When he lied to me, and 
 told me that he had no purpose but my safety, I 
 think that he thought he spoke the truth." 
 
 "I know, madame." 
 
 "But when -- when I saw what he had done, 
 when I saw that we were going west, I warned 
 him that I would leave him. I told him, too, 
 that he was going to his death. He did not be 
 lieve me. No watch was kept on me. He had a 
 small canoe; I took it one night. I had provi 
 sion a little I I I am here, monsieur." 
 
 I stood with my eyes down. Your cousin 
 wished to follow you. The Indians restrained 
 him. It was as I told you. He was not a coward 
 at the last, madame." 
 
 I heard her quick breath. " My cousin, he 
 was very weak. But he would have liked not to 
 be. I think that he would have liked to be such 
 a man as you, monsieur." 
 
 If I had been a live man I should have cried
 
 I TELL THE WOMAN 431 
 
 out at the irony of having to hear her say that to 
 me. But I could not feel even shame. 
 
 " Hush, hush ! " I said slowly. " It is my turn 
 now. Madame, I knew that you were in the 
 Seneca camp." 
 
 "But I was not." 
 
 "It is the same as if you were. We had news 
 from Indian runners that Starling had turned 
 west and joined Pemaou. I knew that he would 
 take you to the Senecas." I stopped and forced 
 myself to look at her. But I found no horror in 
 her face. There was still that strange glow of 
 pride that had not faded since she talked to Ca 
 dillac. I saw that she did not understand. My 
 voice was thick, but I tried to speak again. She 
 interrupted. 
 
 "This is not a surprise to me. This wilderness 
 that seems so lonely is full of eyes and ears. I 
 feared that you would hear that we had turned 
 west." 
 
 Her face was unsteady with tenderness. I 
 had never seen her look like that. I warded her 
 away though she was several feet distant. You 
 do not understand," I said. "I knew that you 
 were in the camp, yet I gave the signal to attack 
 it. I gave the signal to attack it with Indians, 
 and you were inside." 
 
 "But I was not inside, monsieur." 
 
 "I believed you to be, and I gave the signal."
 
 432 MONTLIVET 
 
 "But, monsieur, I" 
 
 "Madame, I believed you to be in the camp, 
 and I gave the signal to attack it. " 
 
 She was silent at that, and I knew that at 
 last she understood. We stood side by side. I 
 looked at the litter in Cadillac s tent, and counted 
 it piece by piece. There were clothes, papers, 
 a handmill for grinding maize. I felt her touch 
 my hand. 
 
 " Will you sit beside me on the couch ?" 
 
 I followed her. She sat facing me, just out of 
 reach of my hand. The light in the tent was 
 blue and dim, but I could see the breath flutter 
 in her throat. I looked at her. I should never 
 be alone with her again. I should never again 
 look at her in this way. I tried to hold the mo 
 ment, and not blur it. I looked at the lips that I 
 had never kissed. I watched the rise and fall of 
 the bosom where my head had never lain. She 
 was speaking, but I could hardly understand. 
 
 " I was three days in the woods before I found 
 the Pottawatamies, " she said. "I was alone all 
 night with the stars and the trees. I thought of 
 everything. I thought of this, monsieur. I was 
 sure you would do what you did." 
 
 I stared at her stupidly. 
 
 She reached out and touched my hand. " Mon 
 sieur, listen. I have lived beside you. I know 
 you to be a man of fixed purpose and fanatic
 
 I TELL THE WOMAN 433 
 
 honor. When such a man as you lays out a 
 path for himself, he will follow it even if he has 
 to trample on what is in his way, even if he has 
 to trample on his heart, monsieur." 
 
 I could not follow her argument. You 
 should not touch my hand." I drew it away. 
 ;< You do not understand, after all. Madame, I 
 gave the signal knowing it meant your murder." 
 I rose, and stood like stone. My arms hung like 
 weights by my side, but I would not look away 
 from her. 
 
 She rose, too. I saw a strange, wild brightness 
 flame into her eyes. 
 
 " Monsieur," she whispered. " I understand so 
 much more than you realize. Listen. You will 
 listen ? Monsieur, until now you have always 
 laughed. You have been gay, gay at all times. 
 Yet, through it all I have seen I have always 
 seen your terrible power of self -crucifixion. 
 Oh, I have seen it ; I have feared it ; I have loved 
 it! I have tried to get away from it. But 
 always I have been conscious of it. It is you. 
 It has ruled all your dealings with me. Else why 
 did you take me with you ? Why did you marry 
 me ? So in this matter. You knew that the 
 safety of the west, and of the Indians who trusted 
 you, lay in attacking this camp. I knew that you 
 would attack it. Monsieur, monsieur, now will 
 you touch my hand ?"
 
 434, MONTLIVET 
 
 I stepped back. You cannot want to touch 
 my hand. Madame, you do not know what you 
 are saying." 
 
 But she did not move. "Monsieur, will you 
 never believe that I understand ?" 
 
 I could not answer. I turned from her. The 
 air was black. I seized her fur cloak which lay 
 on the couch and pressed it in my hands. I 
 knew that my breath rattled in groans like a 
 dying man s. If I had tried to speak I should 
 have snatched her to me. I held fast to the 
 table. I had no thought of what she was think 
 ing. I knew only that I must stand there silent 
 if I was to get away from her in safety. If I 
 touched her, if I looked at her, I should lose con 
 trol, and take what she would give in pity. I 
 fought to save her as well as myself from my 
 madness. 
 
 At last she spoke, and her voice was tired and 
 quiet. You wish me to go, monsieur?* 
 
 That brought me to my manhood. I w r ent to 
 her and looked down at her brown head; the 
 brave brown head that she had carried so high 
 through all the terror and unkindness that had 
 come to her. I touched her hair with my lips, 
 and I grew as quiet as she. 
 
 "Mary," I said, "it is I who must go away at 
 once before I make trouble for both of us. You 
 are trying to forgive me, but you cannot do it.
 
 I TELL THE WOMAN 435 
 
 You may think you have done it, but the time 
 would come when you would look at me in horror, 
 as you looked at Starling. I could stand death 
 better. I know that you cannot forgive me. I 
 knew it at the moment when I gave the signal to 
 attack the camp. You can never forgive me." 
 
 She lifted her eyes to mine. "I have not for 
 given you, monsieur. There is nothing to for 
 give." 
 
 I let myself look at her, and all my calmness 
 left me. I shut my teeth and tried to hold my 
 self in bounds. 
 
 "Mary!" I groaned, "be careful! Be care 
 ful ! It is not your pity I want. If you forgive 
 me for pity" 
 
 I could not finish, for she gave a little sob. She 
 turned to me. "It is you who marry for pity," 
 she cried, with her eyes brimming. " I could not. 
 I would not. And I have nothing to forgive; 
 nothing, nothing. I would not have had you do 
 anything else. I was proud of you. Oh, so 
 proud, so proud ! If you had done anything else 
 I could never have Monsieur, do you love 
 me a little?" 
 
 I took her in my arms. I held her close to me 
 and looked into her eyes. I looked deep into 
 them and into the soul of her. I saw under 
 standing of me, acceptance of me as I was. I 
 saw belief, heart hunger, love.
 
 436 MONTLIVET 
 
 And then I laid my lips on hers. She was my 
 wife. She was the woman God had made for me, 
 the woman who had trusted me through more 
 than death, and who had come to me through 
 blood and agony and tears. She was my own, 
 and I had her there alive. I took her to myself.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 TO US AND TO OUR CHILDREN 
 
 HOURS passed and the flap of Cadillac s tent was 
 not lifted. Outside in the camp the drum beat 
 for sunset. The woman heard it. She pushed 
 back her soft waves of hair, and a shadow fell 
 across the light that had been in her eyes. 
 
 " I had forgotten," she cried, with a soft tremble 
 of wonder in her voice. " We have both forgot 
 ten. We promised the commandant that we 
 would talk about your duty to the tribes." 
 
 I kissed her for her forgetfulness. "Talk is 
 unnecessary," I whispered. "I have made up 
 my mind." 
 
 But the drum s note had recalled her to what 
 lay outside the tent walls. She sighed a little 
 and bent to me as I sat at her feet. 
 
 " Do not make up your mind yet," she begged 
 with a curious, tender reluctance. " Let me tell 
 you something first." 
 
 I pressed her hand between my own. "I can 
 not listen. I can only feel. Tell me, when did 
 you love me first?" 
 
 She raised her hand to hide a tide of color. 
 "Monsieur, it is my shame," she cried, with
 
 438 MONTLIVET 
 
 a little half sob of exultance. "It is my shame, 
 but I will tell you. The night the night that 
 we were married, I lay awake for hours beset 
 by jealousy of the woman of the miniature. Oh, 
 I am indeed shamed! But how could I help 
 it ? Your walk, your laugh, your way of carry 
 ing your head! How could I keep from loving 
 you ? But I fought it. I fought it. I knew we 
 had to part. I went to sleep every night with 
 that thought uppermost." 
 
 I took the hand I held, and quieted its trem 
 bling against my lips. ;< You are my wife," I said. 
 "We shall never part. We shall live together 
 till we are very old." The marvel of my own 
 words awed me. 
 
 But she begged me to hear her out. "I must 
 speak of the past," she went on. "It leads to 
 what I would have you say to the commandant. 
 Will you listen?" 
 
 "I will try." 
 
 " Then then let me speak of the day we 
 parted. I saw that I had to leave you. I knew 
 I thought I knew that country was more 
 sacred than individual happiness. But I was 
 weaker than I thought. When I saw Michilli- 
 mackinac fade, when I knew that I should never 
 see you again, my life seemed to stop. I begged 
 my cousin to take me back. I I begged till I 
 fainted."
 
 TO OUR CHILDREN 439 
 
 I could not keep my hands from clenching. 
 "And he refused you?" I asked with my lips 
 dry, and I knew that my voice showed hate of a 
 man who was dead. 
 
 She did not answer my question, and when she 
 did not defend him I knew that he had been hard 
 to her. "I must have remained unconscious a 
 long time," she hurried on, "for when I came to 
 myself again the country was different and the 
 sun was low. I was exhausted, and I could not 
 think as I had done. You had said that patri 
 otism was a man-made feeling, and I repeated 
 your words over and over. It was all I could 
 seem to remember. I could not see why our 
 parting had been necessary. I wonder if you can 
 understand. It was as "if I had been reborn 
 into a new set of beliefs. All that had seemed 
 inevitable and great had grown trivial. I could 
 not see distinctions as I had. God made us 
 English, French, Indians. I could not under 
 stand what patriotism stood for, after all. I did 
 not know what had come upon my mind, but I 
 saw that words that I had thought worth sacri 
 ficing life for had lost their meaning. And so 
 and so You see what I would say. I have 
 changed. If you wish to lead the tribes you are 
 not to think of me." 
 
 I rose and drew her to me. " But, Mary, I no 
 longer wish to lead the tribes."
 
 440 MONTLIVET 
 
 She could not understand me, as indeed I 
 could not wholly understand myself. She looked 
 at me gravely and long, and she tried to find the 
 truth in me, the truth that was out of sight ; 
 the truth about myself that even I did not know. 
 
 "Was the commandant right?" she queried. 
 "Is it anxiety about me that has changed your 
 plans?" 
 
 I could only shake my head at her. "I am 
 not sure." Then I sat beside her and tried to 
 explain. "Simon is dead. Pierre died saving 
 me. Leclerc and Labarthe died under torture. 
 I sacrificed them to enforce a belief. And now 
 the belief is a phantom. It is very strange. 
 Mary, we have traveled by different roads, but 
 we have reached the same goal. My ambition 
 for conquest is put away." 
 
 She drew a long breath, and I saw splendid 
 understanding of me in the look she gave. Yet 
 she was unconvinced. 
 
 "Perhaps this feeling may pass," she argued. 
 "It may be temporary. Then you will regret 
 your lost hold with the tribes." 
 
 I smiled at her. "I love you," I murmured. 
 "I love you. I love you. I am tired of talk 
 of blood and war. Mary, you accepted me as I 
 was ; accept me, if you can, as I am now. I can 
 not analyze myself. I cannot promise what I will 
 believe as time goes on. But this I know. I was
 
 TO OUR CHILDREN 441 
 
 born with a sword in my hand, but now I cannot 
 use it for aggression. I do not mean that I 
 think it is wrong. I do not know what I believe. 
 Time will tell." 
 
 The strange light that made her seem all spirit 
 flamed in the glance that thanked me. 
 
 "Yet think well," she cautioned. " I I am 
 proud of you." Her voice sank to a whisper. 
 "Sometimes even my love seems swallowed in 
 my pride in you. I live on my pride in your 
 power. Think of your unfinished work. No, 
 no, you must go on." 
 
 I took her by the shoulders. "You strange, 
 double woman!" I cried, with my voice un 
 steady. You command me to do something, 
 the while you are trembling from head to foot 
 for fear I will obey. Will you always play the 
 martyr to your spirit? Mary, I shall not lead 
 the tribes." 
 
 "But your unfinished work!" 
 
 " What was worth doing has been done. This 
 crisis is past. The west will be safe from the 
 Iroquois for some time. There is other work 
 for me. We will go to France. I have business 
 there. Then I would show the world my wife." 
 
 Yet she held me away a moment longer. 
 "You can do this without regret?" 
 
 I folded her to me. " It is the only path I see 
 before me," I answered her.
 
 442 MONTLIVET 
 
 And then, for the first time, she sobbed as she 
 lay in my arms. 
 
 A little later we stood together in the tent door. 
 The sunset was lost in the woods behind and the 
 shadows were long and cool. The camp was gay. 
 All memory of death and conquest was put 
 aside, and the men were living in the moment. 
 French and Indians were feasting, and there were 
 song and talk and the movement of lithe bodies, 
 gayly clad. The water babbled strange songs 
 upon the shore, and the forest was full of quiet 
 and mystery. The wilderness, the calm, un- 
 fathomed wilderness, had forgotten sorrow and 
 carnage. We forgot, too. 
 
 I suddenly laughed as of old, and the sound 
 did not jar. The woman on my arm laughed 
 with me. A thrush was singing. Life was be 
 fore me, and the woman of my love loved me. 
 My blood tingled and I breathed deep. The 
 wood smoke the smoke of the pathfinder s 
 fire pricked keen in my nostrils. 
 
 I pointed the woman to the forest. " We shall 
 come back to it," I cried. ;< We leave it now, but 
 we shall come back to it, some time, somehow. 
 Perhaps we shall be settlers, explorers. I do not 
 know. But we shall come back. This land be 
 longs to us; to us and to our children and our 
 children s children. French or English, what 
 will it matter then ? It will be a new race."
 
 TO OUR CHILDREN 443 
 
 The woman turned. I heard her quick breath 
 and saw the red flood her from chin to brow. "A 
 new race!" she repeated, and her eyes grew dark 
 with the splendor of the thought. She clasped 
 her hands, and looked to the west over the un 
 mapped forest, and I knew that for the moment 
 her blood was pulsing, not for me, but for that un 
 born race which was to hold this land. I had 
 married a woman, yes, but also I had married 
 a poet and a dreamer and a will incarnate. It 
 was such spirit as hers that would shape the 
 destinies of nations yet to come. 
 
 I laughed again, and the joy of life ran through 
 me like delirium. 
 
 "Come!" I cried to her. "Come, we will tell 
 Cadillac that to-morrow we start for Montreal. 
 The sooner we leave, the sooner we return, 
 return to smell the wood smoke, and try the wil 
 derness together. Come, Mary, come." 
 
 And wrapping my wife in the cloak that the 
 savage king had given her, I led her out and 
 stood beside her while I sent the tribes upon 
 their way.
 
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 Cambridge, Mass., U.S. A,
 
 THE EVASION 
 
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