Jumonville's harsh laugh. He was still the superb actor. His
excitement was real, and he counterfeited a nervousness and jerkiness
that appeared real also. One more wild stroke, and they shot farther
out. Jumonville angrily ordered them to return, but Robert seemed to
be possessed by a spell of awkwardness, and Tayoga craftily aided him.

"Come back!" roared Jumonville.

Robert and Tayoga were fifteen yards away, and the great blanket of
fog was enclosing them.

"Now! Now, Dagaeoga!" whispered the Onondaga tensely. "We paddle with
all our might straight toward the south!"

Two paddles wielded by skillful and powerful arms flashed in the
water, and the canoe sped on its way. A shout of anger rose behind
them, and Robert distinctly heard Jumonville say in French:

"After them! After them! It was the messengers who stole by! They have
tricked us!"

Those words were sweet in the ears of young Lennox. He had played the
actor, and the reward, the saving of their lives, had been paid. It
was one of their greatest triumphs and the savor of it would endure
long. The very thought gave fresh power to his arm and back, and he
swept his paddle with a strength that he had never known before. The
canoe skimmed the water like a bird and fairly flew in their chosen
course.

Robert's own faculties became marvelously acute. He heard behind them
the repeated and angry orders of Jumonville, the hurried strokes of
many paddles, the splashing of canoes turned quickly about, a hum
of excited voices, and then he felt a great swell of confidence. The
roaring in his ears was gone, his nerves became amazingly steady, and
every stroke with his paddle was long and finished, a work of art.

Four or five minutes of such toil, and Tayoga rested on his paddle.
Robert imitated him.

"Now we will take our ease and listen," said the Onondaga. "The fog
is still our friend, and they will think we have turned to one side in
it, because that is the natural thing to do. But you and I, Dagaeoga,
will not turn just yet."

"I can't hear anything, Tayoga, can you?"

"I cannot, Dagaeoga, but we will not have long to wait. Now, I catch
the light swish of a paddle. They are feeling about in the fog. There
goes another paddle--and more. They come closer, but we still bide
here a little. I hear the voice of Jumonville. He is very angry. But
why should he be more angry at any other than at himself? He saw us
with his own eyes. He shouts many sharp orders, a