they were to see each other
again, and the drama that was to bring them face to face once more was
destined to be as thrilling as that at Ticonderoga.

The next night came heavy and dark, and Robert, who continued to be
treated with singular forbearance, wandered toward Lake Champlain,
which lay pale and shadowy under the thick dusk. No one stopped him.
The sentinels seemed to have business elsewhere, and suddenly he
remembered his old threat to escape. Hope returned to a mind that had
been stunned for a time, and it came back vivid and strong. Then hope
sank down again, when a figure issued from the dusk, and stood before
him. It was St. Luc.

"Mr. Lennox," said the Chevalier, "what are you doing here?"

"Merely wandering about," replied Robert. "I'm a prisoner, as you
know, but no one is bothering about me, which I take to be natural
when the echoes of so great a battle have scarcely yet died."

St. Luc looked at him keenly and Robert met his gaze. He could not
read the eye of the Chevalier.

"You have been a prisoner of ours once before, but you escaped," said
the Chevalier. "It seems that you are a hard lad to hold."

"But then I had the help of the greatest trailer and forest runner in
the world, my staunch friend, Tayoga, the Onondaga."

"If he rescued you once he will probably try to do it again, and the
great hunter, Willet, is likely to be with him. I suppose you were
planning a few moments ago to escape along the shore of the lake."

"I might have been, but I see now that it is too late."

"Too late is a phrase that should be seldom used by youth."

Robert tried once again to read the Chevalier's eye, but St. Luc's
look contained the old enigma.

"I admit," said young Lennox, "that I thought I might find an open
place in your line. It was only a possible chance."

St. Luc shrugged his shoulders, and looked at the darkness that lay
before them like a great black blanket.

"There is much yet to be done by us at Ticonderoga," he said. "Perhaps
it is true that a possible chance for you to escape does exist, but
my duties are too important for me to concern myself about guarding a
single prisoner."

His figure vanished. He was gone without noise, and Robert stared at
the place where he had been. Then the hope of escape came back, more
vivid and more powerful than ever. "Too late," was a phrase that
should not be known to youth. St. Luc was right. He walked straight
ahead. No sentinel barred the way