ld stay. I don't want to see you
killed."

Nicole said, "Neither would your father. Pierre wanted you to have the
estate, but he didn't want you dead on account of it."

"Amen to that," said Frank.

_Yes_, Auguste thought, despising himself, _but I think he expected me
to keep the land for more than a day_.

Frank went on, "But if you go back to your people, you've got to tell
them--they can no more fight the United States for their land than you
could fight Raoul."

A fierce heat rose in Auguste as he took another sip of brandy. "At St.
George's School I read that the Indian does not make good use of the
land. The whites need the land. Therefore the Indian must yield." He
clenched his fist around the glass in his hand. "We were living on this
land! Doesn't that mean anything?"

Frank said, "Auguste, you know better than any of your people how much
power the United States have. You've got to tell them."

Auguste was silent for a moment.

_The long knives_, he thought. That was what his people called the
American soldiers. But the British Band had no idea how very many long
knives there were. He must make Black Hawk understand.

He sipped a little more of the brandy, and its fire flowed through his
blood.

He sighed and nodded. "I will tell them. Frank, I need a boat."

Nicole said, "Your eyelids are drooping, Auguste. You're tired and
you're still hurt. You can't go tonight."

True. And he wanted to stay long enough to see Grandpapa when he was
awake.

Auguste's last memory that night was of letting Frank lead him across
the corridor into a darkened bedroom, where he fell face down on an
empty bed.

When he came to himself again, he was lying on the same bed, still fully
clothed except for his boots. The room was not as dark as he remembered;
it was in a sort of twilight. The one window was shuttered. A curtain
covered the doorway. He looked around the room, saw boys' clothing
hanging on pegs and piled on the floor, another bed, covered with
rumpled sheets, empty. His own boots and his pack were set neatly at the
foot of his bed.

An urgent pressure inside told him he had been sleeping a long time. He
saw a chamber pot in one corner. Smart of them to leave the pot here, he
thought as he filled it. He didn't dare to go to their outhouse during
daylight.

He went to the window and cautiously looked through the shutter. The
window looked south, and he could not see the sun, only the black
shadows it