"There are naught but benches and walls to hide him. This must be
an idolatrous chapel where the filthy savages congregate to worship
images."

"Come out of the abomination, and let us make haste back to the boat.
He may be this moment marshaling all his Indians to surround us."

"Wait. Let a light first be made."

Saint-Castin and his companion heard the clicks of flint and steel;
then an instant's blaze of tinder made cracks visible over their
Heads. It died away, the hurried, wrangling men shuffling about. One
kicked the platform.

"Here is a cover," he said; but darkness again enveloped them all.

"Nothing is to be gained by searching farther," decided the majority.
"Did I not tell you this Saint-Castin will never be caught? The tide
will turn, and we shall get stranded among the rocks of that bay. It
is better to go back without Saint-Castin than to stay and be burnt by
his Abenaquis."

"But here is a loose board in some flooring," insisted the discoverer
of the platform. "I will feel with the butt of my gun if there be
anything thereunder."

The others had found the door, and were filing through it.

"Why not with thy knife, man?" suggested one of them.