He is a bundle
of inconsistencies; that may be nature or art. He may be a hot-headed
youth, who knows nothing beyond his own bitterness over his capture, or
he may be a clever actor. I do not know."
Cadillac gave a long breath that was near a sigh. "Poor soul!" he said
unexpectedly. "Well, spy or otherwise, it matters little for the few
hours remaining."
I caught his arm across the table. "Cadillac!" I cried, with an oath.
"You would not do that!"
He shook off my hand, and looked at me with more regret than anger. "I
am the rat in the trap," he said simply. "What did you expect me to do?"
I rose. "Do you mean," I cried, my voice rasping, "that you will not
attempt a defense? that you will hand a man, a white man, over to those
fiends of hell? Good God, man, you are worse than the Iroquois!"
He came over, and seized my arm. "I could run you through for that
speech," he said, his teeth grating. "Are you a child, that you cannot
look beyond the moment? Suppose I defy the Ottawas. Then I must call on
the Baron to help me, since it was his men who brought the prisoner to
camp. Why, man, are you crazed? Look at the situation. Kondiaronk, the
Huron, will reason as the Ottawas have done, and throw his forces on
their side.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63