the Englishman, but, instead, he greeted me with so much eagerness that I
saw that some of my news must have run before.

"What do you know?" I cried.

He looked at the crowd swarming outside the window. "That we are in a
hornets' nest," he said, with a wry smile. "But never mind that now. We
must talk rapidly. I have been waiting for you. I could not act till I
learned what you had done."

I bowed my regrets. "I was delayed. I saw the Englishman, and"----

He cut me short. "Never mind the Englishman," he cried, with a wave of
his impatient hand. "Tell me of the Ottawa camp. You have been there an
hour. I hear that you danced where they danced, and shared dog-meat and
jest alike. In faith, Montlivet, I have a good will to keep you here in
irons if I can do it in no gentler way. But what did Longuant say at the
council fire?"

I made sure that we were alone, and dropped into a chair. My muscles
were complaining, yet I knew that I had but begun my day's work. "It was
a long council," I said, "and all the old men were there. Longuant was
leader, but he was but one of many. The Ottawas are much stirred."

"About the prisoner?"

I shook my head. "The prisoner is the excuse,--the touchstone. The real
matter goes deep. You have not blinded these people. They know that
England and France are at war, but they know, too, that peace may be
declared any day. They know that the Baron has made an underground