thankful. As to this messenger,--this is the tale. Some months ago a
small band of Hurons left here for the south. Hunting, or war, or
diplomacy, how shall I say what was their errand? But I mistrust them,
for they are followers of the Baron. They returned this morning, and
are in camp on the island. Their sending a messenger in advance looks
as if they had a prisoner, and so desired to be welcomed in state. If
the prisoner should be an Iroquois"----

Now certain tales were fresh in my ears, and so I did not like the
implication of the unfinished sentence, and hastened to cover it. "It
is a favorable sign, monsieur, that the messenger came to you first."

"How do I know that he came to me first? He came to me--yes. But
because a snake slips out of one hole, can you swear that he has not
been in another? Will you go to him now?"

There was no door open for escape, and the matter was not important
enough for me to be willing to force one. "If you wish," I agreed.

Cadillac looked relieved. "Good! You will find the messenger at my
quarters. I shall let you go alone, for I can make nothing of the
man's speech, and he smells somewhat rancid for a close acquaintance.
When you are through, you will find me here."

I bowed, and made my way to his quarters. I knew as I opened his door
that I might be entering more than appeared upon the surface, but the
excitement of the game was worth the hazard,--even the hazard of a
possible delay,--and I pushed the door wide, and went in.

The Huron was sitting in the middle of the floor, handling his calumet