“I held him, Eagle.”

“They didn’t kill him?”

“No.”

“Or scalp him?”

“The knife never touched him.”

“But—­”

“It was in battle.”

“My child died in battle?  How long have I been ill?”

“More than a year, Eagle.”

“And he died in battle?”

“He had a wound in his side.  He was brought into the fort, and I took care of him.”

She burst out weeping, and laughed and wept, the tears running down her face and wetting her bosom.

“My boy!  My little son!  You held him!  He died like a man!”

I put her on the settle, and all the cloud left her in that tempest of rain.  Afterwards I wiped her face with my handkerchief and she sat erect and still.

A noise of many birds came from the ravine, and winged bodies darted past the door uttering the cries of spring.  Abbe Edgeworth sauntered by and she saw him, and was startled.

“Who is that?”

“A priest.”

“When did he come?”

“He rode here with me this morning.”

“Louis,” she asked, leaning back, “who took care of me?”

“You have been with the Grignons since you came to the Illinois
Territory.”

“Am I in the Illinois Territory?”

“Yes, I found you with the Grignons.”

“They must be kind people!”

“They are; the earth’s salt.”

“But who brought me to the Illinois Territory?”

“A family named Jordan.”

“The Indians didn’t kill them?”

“No.”

“Why wasn’t I killed?”

“The Indians regarded you with superstition.”

“What have I said and done?”

“Nothing, madame, that need give you any uneasiness.”

“But what did I say?” she insisted.

“You thought you were a Cloud-Mother.”

“A Cloud-Mother!” She was astonished and asked, “What is a
Cloud-Mother?”

“You thought I was Paul, and you were my Cloud-Mother.”

“Did I say such a foolish thing as that?”

“Don’t call it foolish, madame.”

“I hope you will forget it.”

“I don’t want to forget it.”

“But why are you in Illinois Territory, sire?”

“I came to find land for the Iroquois.  I intend to make a state with the tribe.”

“But what of France?”

“Oh, France is over supplied with men who want to make a state of her.  Louis XVIII has been on the throne eleven months, and was recently chased off by Napoleon.

“Louis XVIII on the throne?  Did true loyalists suffer that?”

“Evidently.”

“Sire, what became of Napoleon?”

“He was beaten by the allies and sent to Elba.  Louis XVIII was brought in with processions.  But in about eleven months Napoleon made a dash across France—­”

“Tell me slowly.  You say I have been ill more than a year.  I know nothing of what has happened.”