airly. I care nothing for your life, and I need
this story. I will have it if I have to choke it out of your throat."

"I am trying to tell you the story, monsieur."

"No. You are telling me a pleasant fairy tale of a love-lorn knight
searching the wilderness for his lost mistress. A moving tale,
monsieur, but not the true one. I want the real story. The story of
the English spy who wishes to ransom his cousin, but who also treats
secretly with the Hurons,--who treats with Pemaou, monsieur. Tell me
his story."

His face did not alter. "You believe me a spy?"

"I have reason, monsieur."

Still he regarded me. "You might be right, but you are not. Monsieur,
I am a broken man. I want nothing but my cousin. If there is intrigue
around me I do not know it. I am telling you the truth."

I fought hard against the man's fascination, his splendid, ruined pomp.
"You must have a code," I burst out. "There must be something you hold
dear. Will you swear to me by the name of the woman that you have not
had secret dealings with the Hurons?"

"I swear."

"But the profile that the Huron carried!"

"Those pictures I scattered broadcast. You will find them among the
Algonquins, and the Ottawas of the upper river. My cousin has a
distinctive profile. I offered rewards for news of any one--man or
woman--who looked like the face that I had drawn."

I put out my hand. "I hope that I have wronged you, monsieur."

He bowed and touched my fingers. His own were icy, yet he shivered at
the chill of mine. "Pemaou would not dare harm the woman. Monsieur de
Montlivet, you know Indians. Surely Pemaou would not dare?"

I gripped my knife. "No man knows Indians! Where did you see Pemaou
first?"

"At Michillimackinac. When I reached there and learned that the
prisoner had gone with you I sent interpreters through the camps with
offers of reward for news of your whereabouts. Pemaou came. He said
he could locate you and I took him as guide."

"He selected his own escort?"

"Yes."

"And you traveled slowly?"

"Very slowly."

I fingered my pipe and bit hard at its stem. "Pemaou has played
carefully. He had the woman captured and brought to camp. The time
was not ripe for him to use her, so he let me carry her away. But he
has had me shadowed. You played well into his hands, for you furnished
blankets and provisions. He had no intention of letting you find us.
We are equal dupes. I see that I wronged