“I never had any intention of staying away,” replied young Lennox.

The Frenchman laughed.

“At least you show a proper spirit,” he said.  “I commend you also for managing to fire your rifle, although the bullet hit none of us.  It gave the alarm to your comrade and he got clean away.  I can make a guess as to who you are.”

“My name is Robert Lennox.”

“I thought so, and your comrade was Tayoga, the Onondaga who is not unknown to us, a great young warrior, I admit freely.  I am sorry we did not take him.”

“I don’t think you’ll get a chance to lay hands on him.  He’ll be too clever for you.”

“I admit that, too.  He’s gone like the wind on his snowshoes.  It seems queer that you and he should be here in the mountain wilderness so far north of your lines, in the very height of a fierce winter.”

“It’s just as queer that you should be here.”

“Perhaps so, from your point of view, though it’s lucky that I should have been present with these dark warriors of mine when you were taken.  They suffered heavily in the battle by Andiatarocte, and but for me they might now be using you as fuel.  Don’t wince, you know their ways and I only tell a fact.  In truth, I can’t make you any promise in regard to your ultimate fate, but, at present, I need you alive more than I need you dead.”

“You won’t get any military information out of me.”

“I don’t know.  We shall wait and see.”

“Do you know the Chevalier de St. Luc?”

“Of course.  All Frenchmen and all Canadians know him, or know of him, but he is far from here, and we shall not tell him that we have a young American prisoner.  The chevalier is a great soldier and the bravest of men, but he has one fault.  He does not hate the English and the Bostonnais enough.”

Robert was not bound, but his arms and snowshoes had been taken and the Indians were all about him.  There was no earthly chance of escape.  With the wisdom of the wise he resigned himself at once to his situation, awaiting a better moment.

“I’m at your command,” he said politely to Langlade.

The French leader laughed, partly in appreciation.

“You show intelligence,” he said.  “You do not resist, when you see that resistance is impossible.”

Robert settled himself into a more comfortable position by the fire.  His head still ached, but it was growing easier.  He knew that it was best to assume a careless and indifferent tone.

“I’m not ready to leave you now,” he said, “but I shall go later.”

Langlade laughed again, and then directed two of the Indians to hunt more wood.  They obeyed.  Robert saw that they never questioned his leadership, and he saw anew how the French partisans established themselves so thoroughly in the Indian confidence.  The others threw away more snow, making a comparatively large area of cleared ground, and, when the wood was brought, they built a great fire, around which all of them sat and ate heartily from their packs.