“I’ve nothing to complain of.  They took my weapons, but that is the law of war.  I’d have done the same in their place.  As I see it, they’re not particularly bad Indians.  But if you don’t mind, I’d like you to cut these rawhide thongs that bind my wrists.  They’re beginning to sting.”

The Chevalier drew a knife and with one sweep of its keen edge severed the rawhide.  Robert’s wrists flew apart and the blood once more flowed freely through his veins.  Though the stinging did not cease he felt great relief.

“I thank you,” he said politely, “but, as I told you before, I do not hold it against your warriors, because they bound me.  I’d have escaped had they given me any chance at all, and I warn you now, as I warned them, that I intend to escape later on.”

St. Luc smiled.

“I’ll accept the challenge,” he said, “and I’ll see that you don’t make good your boast.  I can assure you, too, if by any possibility you should escape, it certainly will not be before the great battle.”

“Great battle!  What great battle?  You don’t mean that Montcalm will dare to meet Abercrombie?”

“Such an idea was in my mind.”

“Why, we’ll come with four or five to one!  The Marquis de Montcalm cannot stand against such a powerful force as ours.  We’ve definite information that he won’t be able to muster more than three or four thousand men.  We hear, too, that the Indians, frightened by our power, are leaving him, for the time, at least.”

“Some of your surmises may be correct, but your facts don’t follow from them.  The Marquis de Montcalm, our great leader, will await your Abercrombie, no matter what your force may be.  I violate no military secret when I tell you that, and I tell you also that you are very far from being assured of any victory.”

The Chevalier suddenly dropped his light manner, and became intensely earnest.  His eyes gleamed for an instant with blue fire, but it was only a passing moment of emotion.  He was in an instant his old, easy self again.

“We talk like the debaters of the schools,” he said, “when we are at war.  I am to march in a few minutes.  I suggest that in return for certain liberties you give me your pledge to attempt no escape until we arrive at the camp of the Marquis de Montcalm.”

“I can’t do it.  Since I’ve promised you that I will escape I must neglect no chance.”

“So be it.  Then I must guard you well, but I will not have your wrists bound again.  Here comes an expert rover of the forest who will be your immediate jailer.”

A white man at the head of several warriors was approaching through the woods.  He was young, lean, with a fierce, hooked Roman nose, and a bold, aggressive face, tanned to the color of mahogany.  Robert recognized him at once, and since he had to be a prisoner a second time, he took a certain pleasure in the meeting.

“How do you do, Monsieur Langlade?” he said.  “You see, I’ve come back.  I forgot to tell you good-by, and I’m here to make amends for my lack of politeness.  And how is the patient and watchful spouse, the Dove?”