Robert smiled.  His gift of golden speech was again making its presence felt.  He had matched himself against St. Luc before the great League of the Hodenosaunee in the vale of Onondaga, and they had spoken where all might hear.  Now they two alone could hear, but he felt that the test was the same in kind.  He knew that his friends in the thickets behind him were watching, and he was equally sure that French and savages in the thickets before him were watching too.  He had no doubt the baleful eyes of Tandakora were glaring at him at that very moment, and that the fingers of the Ojibway were eager to grasp his scalp.  The idea, singularly enough, caused him amusement, because his imagination, vivid as usual, leaped far ahead, and he foresaw that his hair would never become a trophy for Tandakora.

“You smile, Mr. Lennox,” said St. Luc.  “Do you find my words so amusing?”

“Not amusing, chevalier!  Oh, no!  And if, in truth, I found them so I would not be so impolite as to smile.  But there is a satisfaction in knowing that your official enemy has underrated the strength of your position.  That is why my eyes expressed content—­I would scarcely call it a smile.”

“I see once more that you’re a master of words, Mr. Lennox.  You play with them as the wind sports among the leaves.”

“But I don’t speak in jest, Monsieur de St. Luc.  I’m not in command here.  I’m merely a spokesman a herald or a messenger, in whichever way you should choose to define me.  Captain James Colden, a gallant young officer of Philadelphia, is our leader, but, in this instance, I don’t feel the need of consulting him.  I know that your offer is kindly, that it comes from a generous soul, but however much it may disappoint you I must decline it.  Our resistance in the night has been quite successful, we have inflicted upon you much more damage than you have inflicted upon us, and I’ve no doubt the day will witness a battle continued in the same proportion.”

St. Luc threw back his head and laughed, not loud, but gayly and with unction.  Robert reddened, but he could not take offense, as he saw that none was meant.

“I no longer wonder at my defeat by you in the vale of Onondaga,” said the chevalier, “since you’re not merely a master of words, you’re a master-artist.  I’ve no doubt if I listen to you you’ll persuade me it’s not you but we who are besieged, and it would be wise for us to yield to you without further ado.”

“Perhaps you’re not so very far wrong,” said Robert, recovering his assurance, which was nearly always great.  “I’m sure Captain Colden would receive your surrender and treat you well.”

The eyes of the two met and twinkled.

“Tandakora is with us,” said St. Luc, “and I’ve a notion he wouldn’t relish it.  Perhaps he distrusts the mercy he would receive at the hands of your Onondaga, Tayoga.  And at this point in our dialogue, Mr. Lennox, I want to apologize to you again, for the actions of the Ojibway before the war really began.  I couldn’t prevent them, but, since there is genuine war, he is our ally, and I must accord to him all the dignities and honors appertaining to his position.”