een a pensioner
myself.

"Sire, I thank you," said Bellenger, having shaken the wallet and poked
his fingers into the lining where an unheard-of gold piece could have
lodged.

"It tickles my vanity to be called sire."

"You are a true prince," said Bellenger. "My life would be well spent if
I could see you restored to your own."

"So I infer, from the valuable days you have spent trying to bring that
result about."

"Your majesty is sure of finding support in France."

"The last king liked to tinker with clocks. Perhaps I like to tinker
with Indians."

"Sire, it is due to your birth--"

"Never mind my birth," I said. "I'm busy with my life."

He bowed himself out of my presence without turning. This tribute to
royalty should have touched me. He took a handsome adieu, and did not
afterward seek further reward for his service. I heard in the course of
years that he died in New Orleans, confessing much regarding myself to
people who cared nothing about it, and thought him crazy. They doubtless
had reason, so erratic was the wanderer whom I had first consciously
seen through Lake George fog. His behavior was no more incredible than
the behavior of other Frenchmen who put a hand to the earlier years of
their prince's life.

The third to appear at my tent door was Chief Williams, himself. The
surgeon told him outside the tent that it was a dangerous wound. He had
little hope for me, and I had indifferent hope myself, lying in torpor
and finding it an effort to speak. But after several days of effort I
did speak.

The chief sat beside me, concerned and silent.

"Father," I said.

The chief harkened near to my lips.

"Tell me," I begged, after resting, "who brought me to you."

His dark sullen face became tender. "It was a Frenchman," he answered.
"I was hunting and met him on the lake with two boys. He offered to give
you to me. We had just lost a son."

When I had rested again, I asked:

"Do you know anything else about me?"

"No."

The subject was closed between us. And all subjects were closed betwixt
the world and me, for my face turned the other way. The great void of
which we know nothing, but which our faith teaches us to bridge, opened
for me.

VI

But the chief's and Skenedonk's nursing and Indian remedies brought me
face earthward again, reviving the surgeon's hope.

When blood and life mounted, and my torn side sewed up its gap in a
healthy scar, adding another to my collectio