u expect me to do?"

I rose. "Do you mean," I cried, my voice rasping, "that you will not
attempt a defense? that you will hand a man, a white man, over to those
fiends of hell? Good God, man, you are worse than the Iroquois!"

He came over, and seized my arm. "I could run you through for that
speech," he said, his teeth grating. "Are you a child, that you cannot
look beyond the moment? Suppose I defy the Ottawas. Then I must call on
the Baron to help me, since it was his men who brought the prisoner to
camp. Why, man, are you crazed? Look at the situation. Kondiaronk, the
Huron, will reason as the Ottawas have done, and throw his forces on
their side. I should be left with only the Baron to back me,--the Baron,
who has been whetting his knife for my throat for the last year. Why,
this is what he wants; this is why he brought the prisoner here! Would
you have me walk into his trap? Would you have me sacrifice my men, this
garrison, why, this country even, to save the life of one puny
Englishman, who is probably himself a spy?" He stopped a moment. "Why,
man, you sicken me!" he cried, and he slashed at me with his sword as if
I were a reptile.

I took my own sword, and laid it on the table. "I am a fool," I said,
not for the first time that day. "But how will Frontenac look at your
handing a white man over to torture?"

Cadillac put up his sword. "My orders are plain," he said, tapping a
sheaf of papers on his desk. "They came in the last packet. I am to
treat all prisoners in the Indian manner. As you say, the Indians have
come to think us chicken-hearted. We must give them more than words if
we are to hold them as allies."

I seized sword and hat. "You are a good servant," I said. "I wish you
joy of your obedience," and I plunged toward the door.

But an orderly stopped me on the threshold. "Is Monsieur de la
Mothe-Cadillac within?" he asked. "The Baron desires an audience with
him."

Cadillac pushed up behind me. "I am here," he called to the orderly.
"Tell the Baron that I will see him when the sun touches the water-line."
Then he pulled me back into the room. "How much do you think the Baron
knows?" he demanded.

I felt shame for my forgetfulness. "Pemaou was in the Ottawa camp," I
said, and I told him what had happened.

Cadillac's face hardened. "Then they have sent to demand the prisoner,"
he pondered moodily. "I had hoped for a few hours' respite. There might
have been