He shook his head. "No," he said, with the air of justice I had liked
in him heretofore; "no, they were not cruel. Indeed they were almost
kind, in that they left me a great deal alone. I feared from the
clemency they showed me that they were reserving me for torture."

I eyed him with some skepticism. "It was not the Hurons, but their
rivals, the Ottawas, who would have sent you to the stake," I explained
curtly. "The Hurons--those of the Baron's band--would have held you as
a hostage,--perhaps as a deputy."

He looked up with interested eyes. "You are playing some political
game, and these tribes are your counters. I should like to understand."

I examined his look, but could make nothing of it. "You will pardon
me, monsieur," I said with a shrug, "but these are troublous times, and
I find it hard to believe you as ignorant as you seem."

He still met my look. "And if I were not ignorant?" he asked. "Could
I, one Englishman, alone and unarmed, accomplish anything that would
hurt you? You see that I am harmless. Why not be friends?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"So you are determined that I am a secret ambassador," he meditated.
"Well, I must act my part with dignity. And you think we cannot be
comrades? I dislike to irritate you as I do."

I answered him soberly. "We will be partners," I agreed; "friends for
the night's bivouac, willing to help and to share."

"But you will not trust me?"

I looked away. "What would a truce between us mean? You are English,
I, French. Be assured that sooner or later the fox eats the hen."

He laughed. "Who is to be the fox?" He jumped to his feet.
"Partners, then, it shall be. A strange creed. A helping hand to-day
and a knife in the back to-morrow. But I shall follow you, monsieur."

"You will follow?"

"In this path as in others. If you refuse to admit even a truce
between us, I agree. I shall keep out of your way as much as possible.
Only--I would not have you think me ungrateful."

I could never forbear a smile when he was serious. "We shall probably
think very little about each other," I said comfortably. "Once settled
into routine we shall have work to fill our thought. You will learn to
do your share. I think you willing."

"Indeed I am willing, monsieur."

"Good. So we shall work hard, sleep early, and the months will pass
before we know. Let us not talk of trust or friendship, since our ways
are divided."

He bowed. "You are r