finest attire, not from vanity, but because he wished to create an
effect. It would be like him, when his fortunes were lowest, to assume
his highest manner before both friend and foe.

"You'd think from his looks that he had nothing but a string of
victories and never knew defeat," whispered Willet. "Anyway, his is
the finest spirit in all that crowd, and he's the greatest leader
and soldier, too. Notice how they give way to him, and how they stop
asking questions of Garay, leaving it to him. And now Garay himself
bows low before him, while De Courcelles, Jumonville and Tandakora
stand aside. I wish we could hear what they say; then we might learn
something worth all our risk in coming here."

But their voices did not reach so great a distance, though the three,
eager to use eye even if ear was of no use, still lay in the bushes
and watched the flow of life in the great camp. Many of the French and
Indians who had been asleep awoke, sat up and began to cook breakfast
for themselves, holding strips of game on sharp sticks over the coals.
St. Luc talked a long while with Garay, afterward with the French
officers and Tandakora, and then withdrew to a little knoll, where he
leaned against a tree, his face expressing intense thought. A dark,
powerfully built man, the Canadian, Dubois, brought him food which he
ate mechanically.

The dusk floated away, and the sun came up, great and brilliant. The
three stirred in their covert, and Willet whispered that it was time
for them to be going.

"Only the most marvelous luck could save us from detection in the
daylight," he said, "because presently the Indians, growing restless,