You were indirect and clever about it, but I noticed
it. I, Charles Langlade, have perceptions, you must understand. If I do
live in the woods I can read the minds of white men."

"I know you can," said Robert, smilingly. "I observed from the first that
you had an acute intellect."

"Your judgment does you credit, my young friend. I did not tell you what I
was going to do with you, because I did not know myself. I know more about
you than you think I do. One of my warriors was with Tandakora in several
of his battles with you and Willet, that mighty hunter whom the Indians
call the Great Bear, and Tayoga, the Onondaga, who is probably following on
our trail in the hope of rescuing you. I have also heard of you from
others. Oh, as I tell you, I, Charles Langlade, take note of all things.
You are a prisoner of importance. I would not give you to Tandakora,
because he would burn you, and a man does not burn valuable goods. I would
not send you to St. Luc, because, being a generous man, he might take some
foolish notion to exchange you, or even parole you. I would not give you to
the Marquis Duquesne at Quebec, because then I might lose my pawn in the
game, and, in any event, the Marquis Duquesne is retiring as Governor
General of New France."

"Is that true? I have met him. He seemed to me to be a great man."

"Perhaps he is, but he was too haughty and proud for the powerful men who
dwelt at Quebec, and who control New France. I have heard something of your
appearance at the capital with the Great Bear and the Onondaga, and of what
chanced at Bigot's ball, and elsewhere. Ah, you see, as I told you, I,
Charles Langlade, know all things! But to return, the Marquis Duquesne
gives way to the Marquis de Vaudreuil. Oh, that was accomplished some time
ago, and perhaps you know of it. So, I do not wish to give you to the
Marquis de Vaudreuil. I might wait and present you to the Marquis de
Montcalm when he comes, but that does not please me, either, and thus I
have about decided to present you to the Dove."

"The Dove! Who is the Dove?"

Langlade laughed with intense enjoyment.

"The Dove," he replied, "is a woman, none other than Madame de Langlade
herself, a Huron. You English do not marry Indian women often--and yet
Colonel William Johnson has taken a Mohawk to wife--but we French know them
and value them. Do not think to have an easy and careless jailer when you
are put in the hands of the Dove. She will guard you even mo