"Do you love the French?" the Algonquin asked Radisson.

"Do you love the Algonquin?" returned Radisson, knowing they were
watched.

"As I do my own nation." Then leaning across to Radisson,
"Brother--white man!--Let us escape! The Three Rivers--it is not far
off! Will you live like a Huron in bondage, or have your liberty with
the French?" Then, lowering his voice, "Let us kill all three this
night when they are asleep!"

From such a way of escape, the French youth held back. The Algonquin
continued to urge him. By this time, Radisson must have heard from
returning Iroquois warriors that they had slain the governor of Three
Rivers, Duplessis-Kerbodot, and eleven other Frenchmen, among whom was
the husband of Radisson's eldest sister, Marguerite.[9]

While Radisson was still hesitating, the suspicious Iroquois demanded
what so much whispering was about; but the alert Algonquin promptly
quieted their fears by trumping up some hunting story. Wearied from
their day's hunt, the three Mohawks slept heavily round the camp-fire.
They had not the least suspicion of danger, for they had stacked their
arms carelessly against the trees of the forest. Terrified lest the
Algonquin should attempt to carry out his threat, Radisson pretended to
be asleep. Rising noiselessly, the Algonquin sat down by the fire.
The Mohawks slept on. The Algonquin gave Radisson a push. The French
boy looked up to see the Algonquin studying the postures of the
sleeping forms. The dying fire glimmered like a blotch of blood under
the trees. Stepping stealthy as a cat over the sleeping men, the
Indian took possession of their firearms. Drawn by a kind of horror,