Robert’s joy was dimmed in nowise by his ignorance of his destination.  He had not found the remotest chance to escape while in the village, but it might come on the march, and there was also a relief and pleasant excitement in entering the wilderness again.  He joyously made ready, the Dove gave her lord and equal, not her master, a Spartan farewell, and the formidable band, Robert in the center, plunged into the forest.

When the great mass of green enclosed them he felt a mighty surge of hope.  His imaginative temperament was on fire.  A chance for him would surely come.  Tayoga might be hidden in the thickets.  Action brought renewed courage.  Langlade, who was watching him, smiled.

“I read your mind, young Monsieur Lennox,” he said.  “Have I not told you that I, Charles Langlade, have the perceptions?  Do I not see and interpret everything?”

“Then what do you see and interpret now?”

“A great hope in your heart that you will soon bid us farewell.  You think that when we are deep in the forest it will not be difficult to elude our watch.  And yet you could not escape when we were going through this same forest to the village.  Now why do you think it will be easier when you are going through it again, but away?”

“The Dove is not at the end of the march.  Her eyes will no longer be upon me.”

The Owl laughed deeply and heartily.

“You’re a lad of sense,” he said, “when you lay such a tribute at the feet of that incomparable woman, that model wife, that true helpmate in every sense of the word.  Why should you be anxious to leave us?  I could have you adopted into the tribe, and you know the ceremony of adoption is sacred with the Indians.  And let me whisper another little fact in your ear which will surely move you.  The Dove has a younger sister, so much like her that they are twins in character if not in years.  She will soon be of marriageable age, and she shall be reserved for you.  Think!  Then you will be my brother-in-law and the brother-in-law of the incomparable Dove.”

“No!  No!” exclaimed Robert hastily.

Now the laughter of the Owl was uncontrollable.  His face writhed and his sides shook.

“A lad does not recognize his own good!” he exclaimed, “or is it bashfulness?  Nay, don’t be afraid, young Monsieur Lennox!  Perhaps I could get the Dove to intercede for you!”

Robert was forced to smile.

“I thank you,” he said, “but I am far from the marriageable age myself.”

“Then the Dove and I are not to have you for a brother-in-law?” said Langlade.  “You show little appreciation, young Monsieur Lennox, when it is so easy for you to become a member of such an interesting family.”