The Huron is waiting for your answer."

Cadillac had listened nodding, and his reply was ready. "Tell him that
they must bring the prisoner to-morrow early,--soon after daybreak.
Tell him that Monsieur de la Mothe-Cadillac knows his part, and that
the kettles shall be full of dog-meat, and the young men painted and
ready for the dancing." He spoke rapidly, his hand on his sword, and
his great shoulders lifted as if eager to meet their new burden. He
turned to me with a smile that would have conquered enmity in a wolf.
"This is great news, Montlivet. I could almost ask you to drink the
health of the Baron, and all his scurvy, seditious crew. For, look
you, even if the Englishman is a spy, and the Hurons have brought him
here to make a secret treaty, why, he is in our hands, and Boston is a
continent away. He will have opportunity to learn some French before
he goes back to his codfish friends. What say you, monsieur?"

I laughed rather ruefully. I saw that the game was to be exciting, and
I had never been backward at a sport. Yet I knew that I must turn my
face from it.

"What do I say?" I repeated. "Nothing, monsieur, but that I am a
trader, not a diplomat, and that to-morrow I must be on my way to the
west. I will take your answer to the Huron. Monsieur, I hope you will
sleep long and sweetly to-night. You will need a clear head to-morrow."

Cadillac looked at me, and wagged his head. "Good-day to you, trader,"
he said, with one of his noiseless laughs. "How well you must sleep
who have no thought beyond your beaver skins,--even though you do carry
brandy and muskets hidden in your cargo. Never mind, never mind. Keep
your secrets. Only see that Father Carheil does not smell your brandy,
or I may be forced to send you back to Montreal."

CHAPTER II

THE CAPTIVE

I woke the next morning, saying, "I must keep out of this," and I knew
that I had said it in my slumber. It is pitiful that a man should be
so infirm of will that he need cosset his resolution in this fashion,
and I kicked the dogs from the door of my cabin, and went out to meet
the world in a bad humor.

It was a still world in the great sky and water spaces, but a noisy one
upon the shore. Early as it was--the night dusk was still
lingering--the kettles were simmering, and the Indians decked for a
holiday. The sense of approaching action was powder to my nostrils,
and added to my spleen; so though I went down upon the beach,