"No, I--I fear that I could not."

"It would be well to make the effort," he said gently, looking over his shoulder at her as she leaned against the doorpost. "We do not know what may happen. At any rate, even if you escape, you will need all your strength on the morrow. A fallen captain may not command, Mademoiselle, but--"

"If it is your command, M'sieu, I will try. Good night."

There was a long stillness, broken only by the distant noises of the dance.

"You, too, will sleep, M'sieu?" said Father Claude. "I will watch."

"No, no, Father."

"I beg it of you. At the least you will let me divide the night with you?"

"We shall see, we shall see. There is much to be said before either of us closes his eyes. h.e.l.lo, here is a runner."

An Indian was loping up the path. He turned in toward the hut.

"Quiet," said the priest. "It is Tegakwita."

The warrior had run a long way. He was breathing deeply, and the sweat stood out on his face and caught the shine of the firelight.

"My brother has been far," said Menard, rising.

"The White Chief is not surprised? He heard the word of Tegakwita, that he would return before another sun. He has indeed been far. He has followed the track of the forest wolf that stole the child of the Onondagas. He has found the bold, the brave white warrior, who stole away in the night, robbing Tegakwita of what is dearer to him than the beating of his heart."

The maid stood again in the doorway, resting a hand on the post, and leaning forward with startled eyes.

"He has found--he has found him--" she faltered.

The Indian did not look at her. He drew something from the breast of his shirt, and threw it on the ground at Menard's feet. Then, with broken-hearted dignity, he strode away and disappeared in the night.

Father Claude stooped, and picked up the object. Dimly in the firelight they could see it,--two warm human scalps, the one of brown hair knotted to the other of black. Menard took them in his hand.

"Poor boy!" he said, over and over. "Poor boy!"

He looked toward the door, but the maid had gone inside.

CHAPTER X.

A NIGHT COUNCIL.

The night crept by, as had the day, wearily.

The two men sat in the doorway or walked slowly back and forth across the front of the hut, saying little. The Captain was calling to mind every incident of their capture, and of the original trouble between La Grange and the hunting party. He went over the conversation with Major Provost at Quebec word by word, until he felt sure in his authority as the Governor's representative; although the written orders in the leather bag that hung from his neck were concerned only with his duties in preparing Fort Frontenac for the advancing column,--duties that he had not fulfilled.

A plan was forming in his mind which would make strong demands on the good faith of Major Provost and the Governor. He knew, as every old soldier knows, that governments and rulers are thankless, that even written authority is none too binding, if to make it good should inconvenience those who so easily give it. He knew further that if he should succeed now in staying the Onondagas and Cayugas by pledges which, perchance, it might not please Governor Denonville to observe, the last frail ties that held the Iroquois to the French would be broken, and England would reign from the Hudson to the river of the Illinois. And he sighed, as he had sighed many times before, for the old days under Frontenac, under the only Governor of New France who could hold these slippery redskins to their obligations.

"Father," he said finally, "I begin to see a way."

"The Big Throat?"

"He must help, though to tell the truth I fear that he will be of little service. He may come in time to give us a stay; but, chief though he is, he will hardly dare overrule the Long Arrow on a matter so personal as this."

"What is the Long Arrow's family--the Beaver?"

"Yes."

"But, M'sieu, that is the least of the eight families. If it were the Tortoise or the Bear against us, we should have greater cause for fear."

"True, Father, but to each family belongs its own quarrels, its own revenge. If the Big Throat should interfere too deeply, it would anger the other small families, who might fear the same treatment at some other time. And with Beaver, Snipe, Deer, and Potato united against us,--well, it is a simple enough problem."

They were walking by the door, and Menard, as he spoke, sat on the stone which he had rolled there in the afternoon. The priest stood before him.

"I hope we may succeed, my son. I have seen this anger before, and it has always ended in the one way."

"Of course," the Captain replied, "it does depend on the Big Throat.

He must reach here in time."

"G.o.d grant that he may!"

"In that case, Father, I look for a delay. Unless his heart has hardened rapidly, he still thinks of me. Together we will go to him, and ask a hearing in the war council."

"Oratory will not release us, I fear, M'sieu."

"We shall not ask to be released, Father. Don't you understand? It is more than that we shall demand,--it is peace with New France, the safety of the column--"

The priest's eyes lighted. "Do you think, M'sieu--"

"We can do it. They have not heard all the truth. They do not want a long war which will kill their braves and destroy their homes and their corn. It is this attack on the Senecas that has drawn them out."

"You will tell them that the Governor fights only the Senecas?"

"More than that. The La Grange affair has stirred them up. It has weakened their faith in the Governor,--it has as good as undone all the work of twenty years past. Our only hope is to reestablish that faith."

"I hope that we may," said the priest, slowly. "But they have reached a state now where words alone will hardly suffice. I have tried it, M'sieu. Since we came, I have talked and reasoned with them."

"Well, Father, I am going to try it. The question is, will the Governor make good what I shall have to promise? It may be that he will. If not,--then my life will not be worth a box of tinder if I stray a league from Quebec without a guard." He looked down at the daisy on his coat. "But the maid will be safe, Father. She will be safe."

"I do not believe that they would harm her, even as it is."

"No, I trust not--I trust not. But we are here, and she is here; and not until I know that her journey is over will my eyes close easily at night."

"But your plan, M'sieu,--you have not told me."